THE THIRD VOLUME OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY: Containing a notable description of the whole world, and of all the principal parts and contents thereof:  
As namely, of Angels both good and evil: of the Celestial spheres, their order and number: of the fixed stars and planets; their light, motion, and influence:  
Of the four elements, and all things in them, or of them consisting: and first of fiery, airy, and watery meteors or impressions of comets, thunders, lightnings, rains, snow, hail, rainbows, winds, dews, frosts, earthquakes, etc. engendered above, in, and under the middle or cloudy region of the air.  
And likewise of fowls, fishes, beasts, serpents, trees with their fruits and gum; shrubs, herbs, spices, drugs, minerals, precious stones, and other particulars most worthy of all men to be known and considered.  
Written in French by that famous and learned Gentleman Peter de la Primaudaye Esquire, Lord of the same place, and of Barree: and Englished by R. Dolman.  
LONDINI, Jmpensis Geor Bishop. 1601.   

TO THE RIGHT Worshipful Sir WILLIAM MOUNSON Knight.  
YOur employments (Right Worshipful) in sundry her majesties foreign services both by sea and land, and also (for your farther experience, and satisfaction) in divers other noble enterprises, being accompanied with a sharp and judicious observation of things memorable, and the perusing of many excellent and rare writers; must of necessity have made you not only expert in matters of war and estate, but also most singularly well read in God his great book of nature, I mean the admirable frame of this universe, or whole world. Wherein the infinite varieties and sorts of creatures, like so many visible words, do proclaim and publish unto man the eternity, infinity, omnipotency, wisdom, justice, bounty, and other essential attributes of his dread and sovereign creator.  
Wherefore I do here present unto your Wor. the discourse ensuing, not as a teacher to instruct you in things unknown, but as a faithful remembrancer to recall matters to your mind, which are there already both by speculation and experience most sound imprinted.  
It may please you then to accept of this mine homely translation, not so much for mine own sake, who am able to deserve less than nothing; as for the Author's worthiness, being a Gentleman (as appeareth out of this, & other parts his learned ACADEMY) most rarely qualified: and likewise for the excellency of this present work of his, both in regard of the method, the matter, and the scope. For the method is most exact, and agreeable to rules of art, proceeding from generals to particulars, and from the whole to the parts. The matter or subject is most noble: so that if (according to Aristotle) all arts and sciences do receive their perfection from the dignity of the object; then certes of all others (theology excepted) this science is the most excellent, having so spacious, so beautiful, and so fruitful a field to manure, as the whole world and all things therein contained. Neither is the scope any whit less charitable and christian, tending partly to the information of men's understandings, and the reformation of their errors; but most especially aiming at the glory of the creator, unto whom only is due all submission and honour. Finally considering the author's manner of handling this discourse, and the variety of choise-writers both ancient and of our times, which he allegeth for confirmation of sundry truths, and for other purposes, purging by the fire of his exquisite judgement the dross of their opinions from the pure metal, and in all places adorning their gold and silver with the most orient and invaluable pearls of holy scripture; I deemed it in all respects most worthy to shroud itself under your Wor. patronage. London this 28. of March. 1601.  
Your Wor. most ready to be disposed of, RICHARD DOLMAN.   

To the Reader.  

MOunt on this world's majestic theatre;  
Survey the spheres and everburning lamps;  
Pierce through the air, fire, earth and water;  
Admire Jehovahs' hosts and royal camps  
Ranged in batallions and seemly troops,  
At sight whereof the proudest Atheist droops.   

Surmount the spheres, & view those ghostly wights  
Jnhabiting a world supercelestial:  
Then stoop, & trembling, see those ghastly sprights  
Plunged aye in deepest fiery gulfs infernal:  
And frighted thence, look all the world around,  
What other natures-wonders may be found.   
R. D.   

Sonnet.  

CE que Dieu fit, et fait d'admirable en son monde,  
Ce qu'on en peut avoir de plaisirs et de biens,  
Et d'enseignemens beaux, diuins, et terriens,  
BARREE icy l'instruit par celeste faconde.   

Mais quel saint trucheman, ô Nimphe-Angloise blonde:  
T'apprent ces hauts discours, qui rauissent les tiens?  
C'est mon gentil DOLMAN, ieune laurier des miens:  
Le qui de des neuf seurs, qui en langues abonde.   

O toy heureuse donc d'auoir ce traducteur!  
come ta soeur Françoise heureuse est de l' Autheur.  
Mais plus heureuse encor quand par estudes saintes  
Des grands oewres de Dieu en ce liure depeintes,  
Si bien cognoistres Dieu, qu'au mieux d'ame et de coeur,  
En crainte, amour, et foy, le seruires sans feintes.   
I' attens le temps, PIERRE CASTEL.   

The special and principal matters handled in this third Tome of the French Academy, as it is divided into several days works, and distinguished by Chapters.  

The first days work.  
Page 1 OF the Creation of Heaven and Earth, Chap. 1  
Page 7 Of time, which took beginning with the world, Chapter 2  
Page 12 Of the insufficiency or nullity of reasons, framed concerning the nature of the world against the creation thereof, chap. 3  
Page 15 Of the reasons taken from motion, and the moving intelligences against the creation of the world, and of the insufficiency of them, chapter 4  
Page 20 Of many other devices which they invent, who pretend to overthrow the doctrine of the creation of the world, performed by the creator thereof, chap. 5  
Page 24 Concerning those causes which have made the Philosophers to err from the knowledge of truth, and of their ignorance concerning God and his works, chap. 6  
Page 29 Of the authority of such witnesses, as make the creation and newness of the world undoubted, chap. 7  
Page 34 Of the reasons making for the creation and newness of the world, chapter 8   

The second days work.  
Page 39 COncerning the errors of those Philosophers, which say that God doth his outward work of necessity, chap. 9  
Page 45 Of the reasons, which conclude that God proceeded of frank and free deliberation to the work of the world, chap. 10  
Page 49 Of one only principal and first cause of the universe. chap. 11  
Page 54 Of the space of the six days mentioned in the history of the creation of the world, chap. 12  
Page 59 Of the mysteries hidden under the number of six in the creation of the universe: and of the seventh day of rest, chap. 13  
Page 64 Of the divisions of the universal world, chap. 14  
Page 68 Of the Angelical and intellectual world, chap. 15  
Page 74 Of devils and evil spirits, chap. 16   

The third days work.  
Page 80 OF the celestial or spherical world, chap. 17  
Page 86 Of the form and figure of heaven, and of the motion thereof, as well general as particular, chap. 18  
Page 91 Of the circle's in general, and particularly of the Equinoctial and Zodiac, and of their signs, chap. 19  
Page 95 Of the two great circles named Colours, and of the four less circles and parallels, and of the five Zones of the world and immovable circles chap. 20  
Page 101 Of the hower-circles, and what is done by them in sunne-dials: and of the circles which divide the 12. houses of heaven, chap. 21  
Page 106 Of the ascensions and descensions of the stars and of the signs, and other arks of the Zodiac, and of the oriental and occidental latitude of the sun, or degrees of the zodiac, chap. 22  
Page 109 Of the natural and artificial days, and of the nights, of their diversity and cause, chap. 23  
Page 112 Of equal and unequal, temporal and artificial hours: of the heights of the sun above the Horizon, and of his right and reverse shadows, chap. 24   

The fourth days work.  
Page 117 OF the substance and nature of heaven, and of the celestial bodies: & of their continuance & change, cha. 25  
Page 121 Of motions in general, of their first cause, and of their union in all nature, chap. 26  
Page 125 Of the life, reason, and understanding of the celestial bodies: and of the excellent, political and military order which is amongst them, chap. 27  
Page 130 Of the influence and effects of the planets and stars in things here below either to good or evil, chap. 28  
Page 135 Of the truth which is found in prognostications of Astrologers: and how the stars are appointed by God for signs, and that from their influences no evil proceedeth, chap. 29  
Page 140 Of the planet Saturn, and how it is not evil, nor any other star. chap. 30  
Page 144 Of the planet's in general, and how they work in man, not in constraining, but disposing, chap. 31  
Page 148 Of the true Astronomy which the heavens do teach us, and especially the sun in his admirable effects, chap. 32   

The fift days work.  
Page 152 OF the rising and setting of the sun: and of the providence of God which shineth in the commodities of day and night, chap. 33  
Page 157 Of the second course and motion of the sun and moon, for the distinction of years, months, and seasons: and of the providence of God in these things, chap. 34  
Page 161 Of the image of God, and of his light which is proposed unto us in the sun, with the felicity of man's life, in changing of light and darkness, chap. 35  
Page 166 Of the eclipses of the sun and moon; and of the image which we have therein of the constancy which is in God, and of the inconstancy of men, and of human things, chap. 36  
Page 171 Of the beginning of natural and corruptible things, chap. 37  
Page 176 Of the elements, and of things to be considered in them, in that they are distinguished by the number of four, chap. 38  
Page 180 Of the opinion of those, who admit but three elements, not acknowledging the elementary fire, chap. 39  
Page 185 Of the perfect compositions which are in the nature of all things, by which the four elements may be considered, chap 40   

The sixth days work.  
Page 189 OF the agreement betwixt the elements and planets, chapter 41  
Page 195 Of the fire, and of the air, and of the things engendered in them: and of their motions, and of the winds, cha. 42  
Page 199 Of thunder, and lightning, chap. 43  
Page 203 Of the true Meteors of Christians: and of the supernatural causes of thunder and lightning, chap. 44  
Page 208 Of snows, mists, frosts, frosts, ice and hail, chap. 45  
Page 212 Of comets. chap. 46  
Page 216 Of clouds and vapours, chap. 47  
Page 221 Of the waters sustained and hanged in the air, and of the rainbow, chap. 48   

The seventh days work.  
Page 226 OF dews and rain, chap. 49  
Page 230 Of the fertility caused by dews and rain, and of the providence of God therein, chap. 50  
Page 234 Of the winds, and of their kinds and names: and of the testimonies which we have in them of the power and majesty of God, chapter 51  
Page 239 Of the fowls of the air, and namely of the Manucodiata, of the Eagle, of the Phoenix, and of other wild fowl, chap. 52  
Page 243 Of singing birds, and chief of the Nightingale, and of sundry others, and of their wit and industry, chap. 53  
Page 247 Of the Ostrich, of the Peacock, of the Cock, and of other fowls, chap. 54  
Page 251 Of the earth, and of the situation, immobility, figure, and quality thereof, chap. 55  
Page 255 Of earthquakes, chap. 56   

The eight days work.  
Page 261 OF the sea, and of the waters, and of the division and distribution of them throughout the earth, chap. 57  
Page 265 Of the flowing and ebbing of the sea; and of the power that the moon hath over it, and over all other inferior bodies, chap. 58  
Page 269 Of salt, fresh, and warm waters; and of other diversities in them, chapter 59  
Page 274 Of the commodities which men reap of the waters by Navigation, and of the directions which seamen do receive from heaven, and from the stars upon the sea, chap. 60  
Page 278 Of the division of lands and countries amongst men by the waters: and of the limits which are appointed them for the bounds of their habitation, chap. 61  
Page 283 Of the commodities which are incident to men, and to all creatures, by the course of the waters through the earth, chap. 62  
Page 287 Of divers kinds of fishes; namely of the whale, of the dolphin, of the sea-calf, and others, chap. 63  
Page 291 Of the image that we have of the state of this world, and of men in the sea, and in the fishes thereof, chap. 64   

The ninth days work.  
Page 295 OF fruits, and of the fertility of the earth, and the causes thereof: and of herbs, trees and plants, chap. 65  
Page 299 Of the virtue that herbs and other fruits of the earth have in physic and in food: and of the true use of them. chap. 66  
Page 304 Of the diversity of plants, and of their difference and natural growth; and of their parts, & of the most excellent amongst them, chapter 67  
Page 308 Of trees, and especially of the pine, the fir-tree, the cypress tree, and the cedar, chap. 68  
Page 313 Of trees bearing cinnamom, cassia, frankincense, myrrh, and cloves, chap. 69  
Page 318 Of trees, and plants that bear nutmegs, ginger, and pepper, chapter 70  
Page 321 Of the date-tree, of the Baratha or tree of India, of the Gehuph, and of brasil, chap. 71  
Page 326 Of the citron-tree, limon-tree, orange-tree, olive-tree, and pomegranate-tree, chap. 72   

The tenth days work.  
Page 331 OF mallows, wilde-mallowes, purple-violets, betony, ceterach, and Saint johns-wort, chap. 73  
Page 336 Of celandine, cammock, wormwood, hyssop, sage and mints, chapter 74  
Page 340 Of thyme, savoury, marierom, rue, parsley, and fennel, chap. 75  
Page 344 Of rosemary, camomile, the lily, balm, of grass or dogs-tooth, and of pimpernel, chap. 76  
Page 348 Of nightshade, alkakeng, pellitory of the wall, fumitory, angelica, and of maidenshaire, chap. 77  
Page 352 Of rhubarb, liquorice, aloês, seen, saffron and century, chap. 78  
Page 357 Of wheat, rye, barley and oats; and of rice and millet, chap. 79  
Page 361 Of the vine, of grapes, of wine, and of Aquavitae, chap. 80   

The eleventh days work.  
Page 366 OF terrestrial beasts, and especially of serpents; namely of the aspis or adder, and of the viper, chap. 81  
Page 370 Of Bees, and of their honey & wax; and of silkworms, cha. 82  
Page 373 Of the dog, and of the horse, chap. 83  
Page 378 Of the elephant and of the camel, and of the rhinoceros, chap. 84  
Page 382 Of the lion, of the tiger, and of the panther, chap. 85  
Page 386 Of the wolf, of the bear, and of the ape, chap. 86  
Page 390 Of the heart, of the wild boar, and of the unicorn, chap 87  
Page 394 Of the civet & muskat, of the castoreum, & of the ottar, cha. 88  
Page 397 Of the right use of venomous creatures and wild beasts; and of the justice and bounty of God which shineth in them, chap. 89  
Page 401 Of the nourishment of many creatures, by that which is poison to others, and of the natural amity and enmity which is between them, chapter 90  
Page 404 Of the profit which redoundeth to men by beasts, and chief by tame and private beasts; and of the wondrous providence of God which shineth in them, chap. 91  
Page 407 Of the blessing and providence of God in the multiplication and conservation of those beasts that are most profitable for men, and with which they are most served, chap 92   

The twelfth days work.  
Page 411 OF metals, and chief of gold, chap. 93  
Page 415 Of silver, amber, iron, lead, brass and copper, chapter 94  
Page 418 Of precious stones, and namely of the diamond, chap. 95  
Page 422 Of the emeraud, of the carbuncle or ruby, of the saphir, of the jacinth, and of the amethyst, chap. 96  
Page 425 Of the Chrysolite, of the Topaz, of the opal, of the turkess, and of the agath, chap. 97  
Page 428 Of pearl, coral, and crystal, chap. 98  
Page 432 Of the instructions that men may take in that gold and silver are hidden under ground, and of the use and abuse of them, and of precious stones, chap. 99  
Page 436 Of the doctrine and profit that every one must, and may receive of the whole work of God in heaven and in earth, thereby to acknowledge and glorify him, chap. 100   
Par la priere Dieu m'ayde.   

THE FORESPEECH OF the Academic speakers in the discourses following. Of Heaven and Earth.  

ASER, felicity.  
AMANA, truth.  
ARAM, highness.  
ACHITOB, brother of goodness.   ASER. 
IT is time (companions) that we quit ourselves of the promise, which we made one to another in the entrance of our discourses concerning man, to recreate our minds sometimes (if God thereto gave grace) in the fair and spacious fields of the 
* Or whole world.  universe, by a diligent search and attentive consideration of all nature: to the end thereby the better to acknowledge the sovereign author thereof, and to induce us the more to honour him, who is the foundation, whereupon we began at first to build, & still desire to raise up our Academy. For seeing the knowledge of God, tending to his service, is the principal outte of our being and of all our actions: and that his infinite essence cannot make itself to be comprehended worthily, and according to his greatness by the feebleness of man's understanding: it behoveth us carefully to meditate upon his works, for so much as in them the great Architect of the world hath imprinted certain marks of his glory, sufficient to give us so much knowledge of his high Majesty, and of that wherein he requireth us to honour him; as our condition can bear, and according as is altogether necessary for the health and repose of our souls. Now we consider of the work of God principally in two things (yea, and to them we may easily refer all the discourse concerning this matter:) to wit, in the creation conducting, and government of his creatures; and in the mystery of Redemption, which it hath pleased him to vouchsafe on mankind. As then in the process of our Academy, where we have amply entreated of the little world, which is Man, we have begun to instruct ourselves concerning the chiefest of his works: so now I desire that we may prosecute this goodly matter of the creation and being of the great world; if you (companions) will answer me with the same affection: And if we may obtain so much favour of our God, that being well instructed in his school of wisdom, and guided by his holy spirit, we may dare to speak (and what may we not dare in seeking his glory) of the incomprehensible secret of his work for the health of man; we will assay to accomplish our work, and rest ourselves on this point.  AMANA. 
For as much as the world is a shadow of the brightness of God, and like a great book of Nature and natural Theology; and that all creatures contained in the universe, are like so many preachers and general witnesses of the glory of the creator, as all the learned teach: we must diligently settle our understanding to the contemplation of this shadow of the divine brightness, and our eyes to the reading of this book of Nature; and our ears to hear these natural preachers, which teach us to acknowledge God & his providence above all things else, to the end to glorify him as his bounty doth bind us. We know also the great reasons which invite us to this natural search of all things, & namely the impiety of our age, as we have declared in the fore-speech of the second Tome of our works, showing that the world is of itself sufficient to vanquish all Atheism, there being nothing in the Vniuers either so great or small, but from step to step doth direct man to acknowledgement of a divinity. Which will appear more manifest unto us, if we entreat of the so great variety of creatures. Boldly then (companions) let us prosecute our purpose. If the enterprise be difficult, and too high for us to attain to the sum thereof, yet to approach to things excellent, is always very laudable.  ARAM. 
Many blame discourses which are made, of heaven, for that they be feeble and very slender being compared to the beauty, and importance of the thing itself. And indeed I must confess, that all that can be spoken of the world accordeth therewith as it is in itself no more than the portraiture of the Roman common wealth upon the shield of Aeneas, could meetly represent the greatness and majesty of the acts and power of this Empire. But howsoever it be, we have in the doctrine of the spheres most excellent principles and grounds, which prepare men to the knowledge of nature, and the author thereof; yea which advance them (if they can apply this study to his proper end) in the understanding of the secrets, wisdom, and providence of God, so far as the mind of man can pierce thereinto. Let us then (companions) direct our sight strait towards the place, which we must apprehend, to be blessed; to wit, towards heaven, and let us especially regard God in his works, as the only limit whereto we shall and must once attain.  ACHITOB. 
The orderly motions of the heavens, the goodly workmanship of so many starry pavilions disposed one above the other, without any inter-annoiance in their course; the accord, agreement, power, virtue and beauty of the elements; the situation, stability, and largeness of the earth in midst of the waters, which continually threaten it, and yet drown it not; and so many divers natures, and creatures, which are, which live, which have sense and understanding, in this whole great universe, and serve each one in his place: all these things (I say) are like so many interpreters, to teach us God, as their only efficient cause, and to manifest him unto us in them and by them, as their final cause. Therefore pursuing our first intent sufficiently declared in the beginning of our Academic discourse, and according to the process of the talk by us observed in our description of the natural history of the Microcosm (or little world:) let us here make (companions) as it were another history of the Macrocosm (or great world) first entreating of the creation of the world: then of the division of the same, afterwards of the orders of the spheres; of their substance, natures, and motions, of the influences and effects of their planets; consequently of the elements; and lastly of every essence and creature therein contained; not by a particular description of their kinds, which would amount to a work almost infinite, but only of the principal of each sort, and so much as we shall hold sufficient to induce every one of us, and of those which will deign to hear us, to consider, and highly to praise the wisdom of the father and moderator of all these things, in the creation, conduction, governance, and end of them: and by the union of their parts, with the whole, and among themselves, we have enough to refer the event of our purpose to their beginning and principal scope, which is, to know God and his providence, to the end to glorify him. Declare then unto us (ASER) that which you have learned of the creation of heaven and earth.   

THE FIRST DAYS WORK, OF THE THIRD TOME OF THE FRENCH Academy. Of Heaven and Earth.  

Of the creation of Heaven and Earth. Chapter 1.  ASER. 
IF all men guided by reason (as Plato very well said) have a custom to invocate on God in the beginning of their work, 
In Tim.  whether it be great, or little; how much more convenient is it, that desiring to dispute of the universe (if we retain any judgement at all) we should call God to our aid? It is very difficult to speak as is requisite of the celestial bodies, and of so many divers motions as they have, and yet not one hinder another: but it is a much more high and intricate matter to find out the workman, and father of all this great world. And when we shall have found him, it is altogether impossible vulgarly to express the cause, & reason of his works. For though (as it is) the glory and infinite wisdom of God shineth in this admirable construction of heaven and earth: yet our capacity is too too small, to comprise so great & profound effects, so much it wanteth that the tongue may be able to make a full and entire declaration thereof: And we cannot hold disputation, or argument upon that, which doth not offer itself unto our sense, and proper reason, as is the creation of the world. For therein have we that wonderful Architect (whom Hermes called the great & infinite sphere intellectual, whose centre is all that, which is, throughout the world, created) who performing his work, and giving motion to all the celestial bodies, doth himself continue stable. Now that which moving, is not itself moved, surpasseth all discourses & speculations human and philosophical, and appertaineth to a divine knowledge, the which we ought to impetrate through prayers by revelation of the holy Spirit, even in such sort as all things natural are invented, and comprehended by reason & demonstration, and all moral are obtained by art and use.  

Prayer to God.  Then of the sovereign, and true God, with his eternal Word, and holy Spirit, which three are one essence, one God in Trinity of persons, 
Exod. 3.  whose name is (I will be, that I will be) or (I am that I am) Almighty, Eternal, Creator and governor of every soul and body, in contemplation of whom consisteth the only good, the true felicity, and blessedness of man, whom he himself hath created to attain thereunto, a living creature, reasonable by the gift of understanding, and free-will: Who being just, permitteth not his creature made according to his own image, to remain unpunished, having sinned; and being merciful, hath not left him without grace; who hath given both to the good and evil an essence, with the stones; a life vegetative and full of seed with the plants; a life sensual with the beasts, and a life intellectual with the Angels; from whom proceedeth all governance, all goodliness, and all order; by whom all that is natural, even from the highest of heaven, to the centre of the earth, doth subsist; of whom are the seeds of forms, the forms of seeds, the movings of seeds, and of forms: who (being good) hath not left regardless not only the spherical and elementary world; or else the Angels and man, but even the entrails of the most small, and contemptible amongst creatures, neither the lightest feather of the birds, nor the least flower of the herb, nor leaf of the tree; engraving in each of all these things (the works of his omnipotency) certain signs of his glory, and majesty, by the covenant and accord of every of their parts, and as it were by I wots not what manner of peace: Of him (I say) father, and moderator of all that which is, which liveth, which hath sense, and understandeth, let us request (Companions) that with the light of his wisdom he will illuminate our understandings, and by his holy spirit direct and govern our words, meetly to discourse of according as man's power is able, the works of his almighty hand in heaven, and in earth, according as our intent is.  
The beginning of every thing whatsoever, is of such weight and importance, that on the knowledge of the same dependeth all the science thereof: for it is impossible that a man can be skilful in any thing, if he be ignorant in the principles, and first causes of the subject which he desireth to know: contrariwise having well known them, the understanding of the effects which thereupon ensue, of the virtues and qualities which thereby redound, of the actions which thereof proceed, of the degrees which therein are established, of the bounds and limits whereto these first causes tend to obtain their perfection, declareth itself, as of it own accord, without great difficulty and much pain. This was the cause why many sages in old time despising the care of temporal affairs, addicted themselves altogether to search out the cause of all nature: so that the most excellent of them would boldly discourse of the original and making of the world. But the saying of Plato remaining ever true, that it is as hard to find out the maker, and father of this All, as to speak properly of him being found out: it so falleth out, that the most part of them, who have entreated of so lofty a matter, have erred, straying by divers by-ways; yea even all those whom the Son of justice, hath not fully illuminated with his supreme brightness. Thereupon it proceeded that the philosophers have been divided into divers and contrary opinions, about this question (whether the world hath been from everlasting, or whether it hath been of late, whether of necessity, or else by the free will, and motion of God.) Aristotle with all the troop of those, 
divers opinions of the Philosophers in th●● argument of the being of the world.  who believe nothing but that which they can invent and comprise by natural reasons and syllogisms taken from sensible things, which guide them to a certain demonstration, not being able thereby to understand, how, and wherefore heaven & earth have been created, affirm that they were never made, but that they have been from eternity. But Plato followed of a great number of the most clear-sighted wisemen, hath confessed the generation of the world which he teacheth to be ordered, and disposed by complete and perfect numbers: under the vail of which, & the obscure notes of hidden sense, it seemeth that he would hide the close mysteries of the creation of the vniuers to those which were not yet instructed in such secrets, which only may be comprehended by a pure and celestial cogitation divinely infused. For let us know that there is no certainty at all of this doctrine, except for those to whom the mind, by a special and supernatural grace is sharp, being fashioned and form by meditation of the immutable substance of God himself, and by a secret operation of the holy Ghost, to believe that it is the Eternal who by his word hath made all nature. For so the Sovereign Creator talketh with man, and establisheth a certain testimony of his truth in the heart of him, when he hath made him proper and meet to hear him, with the best and most excellent part of his understanding, in regard whereof he is said to be made according to his own image.  
But although these things may be known, being nor far remote from our interior, 
How the creation of the world may be believed.  or exterior senses, yea so that they may be called present, and whereof no doubt is to be made, especially being supported by authority of good witnesses; yet those things which surpass the ordinary puissance of the mind, because by our own judgement we cannot credit them, must be considered, and believed, according to that covenant of verities, which they announce unto us, who have known them, by our understanding peaceful, and duly purged: so that we may add faith to such holy personages, as God hath made capable of his light, and which instruct us not in the things which they have imagined, but in such as they have heard & received from divine oracles. It is then of their authority, that he must make a buckler, whosoever will meetly debate of God, and of his works, and of his providence in the governance of them. And when the wings of Nature fail us in so lofty a contemplation, we must take to us those of divine grace; and when the natural light fadeth and is ready to die, to require an infused and supernatural illumination. The world is greatest of all things visible, and God of all things invisible. That the world is, we perceive; but that God is, we believe. Now that he hath made the world, we can better believe of no body then of God himself. But where have we heard that? In his word, whereto we must give credit concerning those things whereof it is expedient that we should not be ignorant, and which we of ourselves are not able to understand. Now he hath spoken first by his prophets, then by himself in the person of our Redeemer, and lastly by the Apostles and disciples. We hear him speaking aloud, where Moses the father of divines, 
Genes. 1.  and master of Philosophers saith (In the beginning God created the heaven, and the earth.) The prophet was not there present, but the wisdom of God, by which all things were made, and which by an incomprehensible virtue conveyeth itself into holy minds, and doth direct them, and declare all his works, without any noise at all, by his spirit; which can do all, beholdeth all, encourageth all, and passeth through all purified spirits of understanding, and abideth in his elect. And the blessed Angels, who always behold the face of their father, speak to them also, and announce the secrets of the eternal Majesty, to all them (I say) in such sort as it pleaseth the Omnipotent to make them worthy. One of these was Moses, who teacheth us that God almighty made this great universe. A witness so excellent and worthy, that by him we must believe in God, whom we perceive, as it were through the same wisdom and spirit, which revealed unto him the creation of the world: who prophesied almost two thousand years before of the high-mysteries of Christian faith: confirming also his whole doctrine, by miracles, prodigies, oracles, and prophecies, wherewith all his writings abound. And therefore having confidence in his testimony, we call God, Creator of all things, thereby inferring, that he is author, principal, and first cause of all essences, which cause by manner of speech ought to be full of all things, if this Maxim of the Peripatetics be true. (That none can give away of that which he hath not.) And therefore the Poet the honour of our age very learnedly saith. 
Ere time, form, substance, place, to be themselves attained, 
Du Bartas in the 1. of his weeks.   
All God in all things was, and God in all remained.  For there is nothing produced by nature, or form by art, but first it hath abiding in that which performeth it. So every creature is engendered by virtue of that seed, wherein it was at first, by power, included: so each work liveth in the mind of the workman before he puts it in practice. So had the world perfect being, in the thought of God before it was builded, and the very Idea thereof was contained in it, by which this great architect, when it pleased him, performed his outward work: as saint Augustine very learnedly discourseth in a long treatise upon this text of Scripture (All things were made by the word, 
john 1.  and in it was life, etc.) And thereby we learn, that God almighty, the unit from which all number proceedeth, and whereto all multitude referreth itself, did increase himself in himself, before he communicated his unity with creatures, engendering one eternity, and by an alone unique action never disturbed, his lineage full of understanding, the very image of the father, his word, the perfect pattern of the world, and his love and power the holy Ghost, which allieth the understanding with the thought, three persons in one essence and substance. Afterward this Godhead, though in itself it was sovereign good, not having need of any strange thing, yet would he according to his own bounty in him consisting, produce the outward work of the world, whereinto spreading himself, by a kind of process of well ordered degrees, and disposing through admirable workmanship the harmonical forms of the heavens: the angels and men by him created to be made partakers of felicity, contemplating these marvels, were ravished and carried away with meditation of spiritual things, and by the beauty of his works, and ornament of his creatures have learned to acknowledge the father of this universe. Who moreover, performed not so great a work in such manner as mortal men accustom to labour, who cannot do any business themselves, if they have not stuff and tools fit for it, nay and then cannot do it according to their desire. But God created all of nothing, without help, without counsel, 
That God made all of nothing.  by himself, by his word, by the power of his holy spirit, in such time and manner as he hath pleased; of his own frank and free will. Therefore it is written (He spoke, and it was done, 
Psalm. 33. Psal. 135. jerem. 31.  he commanded and the world was created.) Also (The Lord hath done whatsoever he pleased in heaven, and in earth, and in all the depths.) And again (Oh eternal Lord, behold, thou hast made heaven, and earth by thy great power, and by thy stretched out arm: nothing is impossible to thee.) Briefly holy writings are filled with texts to this purpose, which give us certain testimony, that the works of God are not subject to any other cause, then to his only omnipotent will, and that thereby, the word being spoken, those things which were not, have been created, as well the substance, as the fashion of them: and also the word Creation doth properly import so much, according to the style of holie-writ. Behold then summarily that which we learn of the original of the world; we will consequently consider, as near as may be, of this notable and excellent doctrine, and of certain arguments which some use to the contrary. Wherefore AMANA, if you think good, you shall frame the subject of your discourse, upon the time, wherein this universe began to be builded.   

Of Time, which took beginning with the World. Chapter 2.  AMANA. 
THe matter which we entreat of, 
Hierom. in prolog Gal●● Au●ust 〈…〉 upon Genes●●  hath always been accounted of the Sages, to be of such depth, and profundity, that it was ordered amongst the ancient Hebrews, that any, who had not attained to ripe age, & good years, might not meddle with the creation. Of this prohibition doth S. Hierome make mention. And therefore Saint Augustine upon Genesis, searching out the deep secrets hidden under the vail of simple words therein contained, speaketh to the Reader in this manner. [Comprehend this if thou canst; if not not, leave it to them, which are more learned. But make profit of the Scripture, which abandoneth not thy weakness, but, like a mother steppeth foot by foot an easy pace with thee. For it speaketh in such sort, that in height it scorneth the proud, in depth it astonisheth those which are attentive to it. It feedeth the great with truth, and nourisheth the small ones with mild and familiar discourse.] And in truth in each part of Moses writings, the treasures of all Philosophy are by him discovered, like as if they were closely hidden in some field, chief in this place which we have intended to entreat of touching the creation. For of deliberate purpose he argueth in Philosophy of the original of all things, of God, of the degree, number, and order of the parts of this great world. We nevertheless having confidence in this saying of the Psalmist, 
Psal. 119.  That the word of God doth illuminate and give understanding to the simple, and that it serveth for a light to our paths, we may be bold to touch so lofty a point.  
But before we proceed to consider of the precious treasures, and learned doctrine wherewith the sacred sayings of the prophet touching the creation are replenished: it will be good that we discourse a little of the principal arguments, whereupon many, better Philosophers then good Christians, have objected against this doctrine of framing of the world. And I will willingly begin with this old question of the Epicure, 
Why God made the world in the time that Moses declareth.  which the atheists of our time have renewed, to wit: Why in the time that Moses recordeth, it pleased the eternal God to create heaven and earth, which he had not made before? If they, which say thus, would thereby infer, that the world hath been eternal without any beginning, and for that cause it seemeth to them that God made it not, they are too far wide of the truth, and sick of the mortal disease of impiety. For besides the manifold tellings, and prophetical testimonies, which make the creation of heaven and earth undoubtable: even the world itself, by his motion, and well ordered changing, & the gorgeous show of all things visible therein contained, not speaking one word, do after a sort cry out, that it was made, & that it could be no otherwise form, then by God, who is ineffablie, & invisibly glorious. For it is not to be supposed, that a thing of most exquisite order & reason, should have been made by chance; & that a deed most sovereign, could have any other father then sovereign; nor so goodly a work any other architect than one essentially, goodly. And therefore all the schools of those Philosophers, which have had any whit of divine sense, affirm with one consent, that there is nothing which more proveth that God hath made the world, and that it is governed by his care & providence, than the only beholding of the whole world, and consideration of the beauty and order thereof. But see here what imagination not grounded on sense putteth into the mouths of many. What did God (say they) before he created the world? why staid he till then? or why staid he not a little longer? In these and such like doubts they enwrap themselves; making no difference between the condition of God, and our own; between his eternal essence, and that of those things, which have once had a beginning. But with a discreet, and pleasant answer Saint Augustine resolveth those, which demand what God did before the fabrication of the world. He was busy (saith he) cutting down wood in the forest, to burn the rash and curious, who remember not what they themselves did yesterday, and yet dare inquire what God hath done of eternity. But that I may speak to the most subtle, let the best learned among them tell me, what they intent by this word (before) whereof they inquire? 
Time began with the world.  If they mean the passing away oftime, they deceive themselves, because time took beginning with the world. And if by the word they imagine something concerning eternity, they abuse themselves also, for therein is neither before, nor after. For eternity is an entire being at once altogether, without any proceeding. Whereby it is evident that their question is nothing. Time therefore cannot accord with eternity, nor be eternal, seeing eternal hath no process. It is therefore a foolish question, why before time was, God created not the temporal world, as if there had been some succeeding seasons, before any succession did consist: for one cannot with any reason imagine any time before the stablishing of the univers. Yet Aristotle, whom the atheists will rather believe then the word of truth, proveth no other thing, when he enforceth himself to declare the eternity of the world, than that time was never without the world, nor the world without time, which the Sages say, march in equal pace with the place. Wherefore as there is nothing beside place, appertaining to place; so there is nothing beside time, belonging to time. And for those which ask why the creator made not his world later: I again request them that setting apart the work of the vniuers, they would assign me their before, & after, & then I will render them a reason why God created not the world sooner, or later: It is most certain that they shall be constrained to confess, that before the order & intercourse of the Spheres, there was never any before or after, which are the conditions of time. And therefore their rash demand deserveth no other answer, except we recount unto them the pleasant saying of Democritus, which is not unfit for our purpose in this place (No man regards that which is before his feet, and yet we see many sound the secrets of heaven, and curiously seek after the mysteries of God.) 
Of those which take from the world the beginning of time.  There are others also who disputing more subtly of these matters, agree very well that the world was made, but they will not allow that it had a beginning of time, but of his own creation, so that it hath always had a being in some sort, which they cannot understand. Those found their opinion upon this pretext to defend that God should not do any action new, or of chance, for fear least men should believe, that that came suddenly into his mind, which before he had not determined, to make the world, and that he, who is immutable in all things, should create it, through a new-sprong thought. Now as they make doubt, concerning the time, which they would not have begun with the vniuers: let me ask them also, why the world was set in that place where it resteth, rather than any other where? For if they suppose infinite spaces of time, before the generation of the vniuers, in which it seemeth not that God could rest from work: they may aswell believe many spaces of place out of the world: wherein if any could affirm that the Omnipotent hath not been idle, they should be forced to dream with the Epicure of innumerable worlds. But if they answer me that the thoughts of men are vain, by which they suppose of infinite places, sith there is no place out of the world: I may tell them also, that they are ill-grounded in the consideration of time, sith there was never any before the world. And therefore as it is no consequence, that God framed the univers, rather by adventure, then by divine reason; not in any other place, but in that wherein it is; though man's capacity cannot comprise the same divine reason, by which, it was so made: So is it no consequence, that we should deny that it happened to God by chance, or by a new imagination, when he created the world, rather in one certain time, then before, seeing that the times precedent how long-soever we may imagine them, should be equally passed away, comparing them with eternity, by an infinite space at once: and there should be no difference why an ancient time should be preferred, before a latter. Wherefore we must all believe, that the world was made with the time, and that time took beginning with the world, 
Of the will of God in the work of the Creation.  and that notwithstanding, in making it, God changed not his eternal counsel, nor his immutable will: but according to his inscrutable providence and bounty innate, he would, when he pleased, compose the large frame of the vniuers, full of his image. And here the definition which Aristotle maketh of Time, serveth to our purpose, to wit, that it is the measure of motion. For if immutable eternity is easily discerned from Time, who perceiveth not, that time had never been, if some creature had not been made, who might change the created species by moving? For that which giveth time his course, is the changing of things, when they give place one to another, and one succeed another, because they cannot consist all at once together. Let us conclude (therefore) seeing that the holy and most true writings express (that: In the beginning God created heaven and earth) we may assure ourselves there was nothing before then, and that doubtless the world was not made in time but with it. For that which is done in time, is done both before, and after some time: after (I say) that which is past, and before that which is to come. Now before the world, there was no creature, by the changeable motion of which, time might have proceeding. Wherefore the world and time have the same beginning, by the will of almighty God, and according as is declared unto us in his word: against which, there is no other reason of Sophists, which can conclude any reasonable appearance, as you ARAM may amply declare, in the process of our discourse.   

Of the nullity of reasons, framed concerning the nature of the world, against the creation thereof. Chap. 3.  ARAM. 
THis sentence of Simonides, the ancient poet, is well worthy to be celebrated by the mouth of every Christian man, (God alone hath the glory, to be supernatural.) For what other cause can we invent of his works, but his only free-will? But what rashness rendereth man so audacious, as to inquire the cause of God's will, seeing it is, 
The will of God is cause of all things.  and by good right must be the cause of all things, which subsist? For if it had had any cause, then must that cause have preceded, and the will of God attended thereupon, which were unlawful to be imagined. Wherefore when it is asked, why did God so? we must answer; because it was his will. If proceeding farther, any inquire, why it was his will? they demand after a thing greater, and higher than the will of God, which cannot be found. Yet nevertheless have we sufficient in his word wherewith to satisfy our minds, in meditation of his secrets with all reverence. For they, which have declared them unto us, penetrating into most hidden mysteries, by the light of the holy spirit, have sufficiently revealed them unto us, with most splendent clearness. But the way of truth is shut up to the wise of the world, and cannot be attained but by the directions of itself. So that (which is greatly to be deplored) it often cometh to pass, which this jambicke relateth, (That the understanding of things given by God, in long tract of time, is confounded by men's opinions, retaining very little divinity, & truth, by reason that it agreeth not with those things, which fall within the compass of our sense.) The philosophers therefore, attributing too much faith to themselves, have blinded themselves through their vain discourses, and have become guides to the blind: so that falling into the ditch, they have drawn many after them, by false arguments, and apparent reasons, whereof our subject shall here be to insert the most principal.  
They then, who esteem that nothing is stable, or can be stable, in such sort reasoning, and arguing by sensible things, prove it by the same demonstration that Aristotle hath delivered, 
Of the demonstration of Aristotle.  yea and as he hath observed in his whole discourse, & natural progression (considering that all his consequences proceed from certain maxims, which he supposed to be perfect true) & amongst the most powerful inventions, by which they pretend to overthrow the creation, and framing of the world, these peripatetical reasons of the nature of the world are produced. First, they behold the heavens altogether differing from contrariety: 
Reasons of philosophers against the creation of the world.  whereupon they conclude, that it is not corruptible, and by consequence not made. They find moreover, that those things which have a beginning, do get unto themselves a new place: now heaven not being able to get itself a new place, they conclude that it could not be created at any time. They consider also that all things which are moved, pass into a new place, or are moved round about some thing, which remaineth firm (as all the spheres are about their centre) to the end that all disorder might be brought to some uniformity. Likewise they suppose every new thing to be reduced into the old: so that all generation and corruption is made according to the old substance, and all motion is governed by the firm and stable earth, or the unmovable centre, by which principles they could not perceive how the newness of the world could any way come to pass. And forasmuch as the generation of one thing is the corruption of another, and that nothing which should be corrupted might precede the world, thereupon they ground that it is eternal without a beginning. Proceeding farther, they suppose that every thing which is produced, had a forebeing in the matter thereof. Therefore (they hold) that of necessity the matter must be eternal. But the most principal and substantial argument, which they bring, and most generally received, is, That of nothing, nothing is created; whereupon they conclude, that the world could not be made, because nothing did proceed it.  
Now we may easily answer these reasons, and try whether they conclude, 
Three sorts of works, and three kinds of workers.  or not: but first let us suppose (as it is most certain) that there be three sorts of works, and three kinds of workers. For there is the Artificer, who presupposeth the nature, to wit, the stuff, fashion, and all the compound. There is the natural agent, which requireth beforehand; the effect of God, to wit, the subject, or the matter. And there is God the sovereign worker, who hath no need of any other thing, because he is perfect, retaining in himself all manner of virtue. Which three kinds of workers do fitly accord by a certain analogy and proportion, but do much differ in comparison one with the other: and at the bounds and limits of the one worker, cannot be concluded the power of the other. For it were an error to proceed from art to nature, as if one should say: The art doth first require the compound, the Goldsmith gold, the Founder metal, the Carpenter wood, and the Mason stones and cement: therefore the natural agent doth also require the compound. 
Answer to the arguments of philosophers.  And likewise the philosophers deceive themselves, when they imagine that the sovereign Creator hath need of a subject, or matter to work on, as is requisite for the natural agent. Also they abuse themselves to teach, that forasmuch as herein there passeth a certain proportion from one contrary to another, it therefore followeth, that God and nature do proceed by one and the self-same way. But where (I pray) have they learned to invent such conclusions, when themselves teach, that art is distinguished from nature, and that natural things appertain to one kind of doctrine, and the eternal, and free-from-motion belong to another? For the artificer giveth the artificial form, and requireth the natural; and the natural agent fashioneth the substantial, and requireth the material, which is the work of the sovereign. But if God should require any thing beforehand to work with, he should also require a former God which must have produced it, and by that reason there should be I wots not what former thing before the first. What are then these shows of arguments? They conclude and accord badly, when because of the passion of a new place, which demandeth that which is newly performed, they would thereby exclude the world from generation, because it getteth not a place. But what absurdity shall they find it, if granting them that it hath obtained a place; I say it is the same wherein at this present it remaineth? For it subsisteth about the centre, or above that of the earth, or of the whole vniuers, or of the sphere intellectual, whose centre (as Hermes saith) is all that which is every where created. In that which they farther infer, that every new thing must be reduced to an old, we grant it them. But that old, is the divine cogitation, wherein all things are contained, before they be displayed in their proper forms: which, being created by itself, it alone doth govern and preserve them afterwards. What they moreover adjoin, that all natural transmutation is made of one matter transposed into another, we consent to them. But this is not requisite in the primitive production, free from all laws of nature, whereto by right the prince thereof is not obliged. And we agree also that every thing, which is produced, must first be included in some other power, before it be effected: but we say that natural things remained first in the matter; and the world and diversity of substances, were comprised in the Ideas, or exemplaries resident everlastingly in God. And so do the Platonists maintain, who mounting much higher than the Peripatetics, agree with that which Saint john saith. 
john 1.  That all things were made by the word, and that in it was life: which brought forth all things, and that in it the world before was by power comprised. Wherefore these be no dreams (as Aristotle calleth them) but the Ideas of Plato: but those are sighted like the bat, who see not the things most manifest in nature, thereby to acknowledge the author of nature. And to the end that we loosen the strongest knot of their arguments, to wit, 
Nullity of the argument, Nothing of nothing can be made.  That of nothing nothing is created: I would desire them to expound me their sentence, because it is doubtful, and ambiguous: for if the sense be thus, that of nothing, by art, or nature nothing is made, because they require the matter whereupon to work: we willingly accord. But what is this to purpose concerning the supreme and almighty architect, whom nature doth follow after, as far as art doth nature, as all philosophers confess: For according as the natural agent, bounded and subject to motion, time, and succession, is less and more disable in essence; so is it less in performance than he, who is free, and at liberty from all laws of nature. But if they mean, that of nothing (to wit) after it hath no being, nothing is created; then have they left it to this present to discuss, and to all posterity for ever. Wherefore we have a spacious field, to deny them that which is neither proved, nor evident in itself. If they infer, that this nothing rejecteth all manner of causes: then we consent to them in this point. But in the creation, or generation of the world, we presuppose (as truth requireth) a working, and sovereign cause, who in the infinite virtue of itself, containeth the matter, subject and fashion, to bestow the means, the disposing qualities, and all that, which is requisite to reduce, and bring to perfection any business. Behold then, how all these arguments conclude nothing against the doctrine of the world's creation, no more these other reasons derived from the motions, and their bounds, which the Peripatetics do farther induce against the same, as pursuing this matter (ACHITOB) we may hear of you.   

Of the Reasons taken from motion, and the moving Intelligences, against the Genesis of the world, and of the nullity of them. Chapter 4.  ACHITOB. 
THE Peripatetics, whereof now adays many may be found, persevering in their natural speculations, 
Nullity of the argument of material generations in respect of the divine piece of work.  and considering that motion consisteth in that which is moved, or engendered, or else in the subject of transmutation, and because no substance did precede the primitive production of the world, thereupon they conclude, that it was never created. But it is no marvel if they be greatly abused, seeing they would never serve from their sense, and sensible things: whereof no pure and sincere truth can be gathered, because that by them, or by the reasons on them founded, we cannot attain to the knowledge of divine mysteries, which are intellectual, far remote from any substance, moving, succession, or other sensibleness. And therefore they much deceive themselves, when they, in such sort, argue of these gross, & material generations, comparing them with the divine master piece of work, which surpasseth all means of nature. They maintain that all direct (or forward) motion cannot be perpetual, because it requireth infinite space which nature is not able to endure: but circular motion, because it passeth nothing infinite, may be perpetual. Now in eternal things, the consequence is good from the power to the being. One may then (say they) thereby assure himself of the eternity of the world. But see a goodly reason to presuppose that to be perpetual and infinite, which they pretend to prove. Auerrois proceedeth farther, and saith, that it is impossible for the world to have had any other disposition, than such as at this present it hath, and that being exempt from all contrariety, it followeth, that in no wise it is corruptible, and therefore was not engendered. But who revealed unto him that which he supposeth of the state of the world? With what measure pretendeth he to meat out the puissance of the sovereign workman? 
Other vain arguments of Philosophers.  By what authority dares he limit out the power of the infinite, so, that he may not destroy, and build up at his good pleasure? I say then that the passing away of heaven hath another kind of bound and limit, than the earth, and the very rest itself, whereto (as with one mind all Philosophers teach) all motion doth tend. 
All motion tends to a rest.  But forasmuch as motion begetteth time, and time itself is the measure of motion, thereby it cometh, that forging their arguments upon one part of time, they miss and fail in reason, when they dispute thus: If the world was not before it took beginning, seeing this (before) is an appendix of time; than it followeth that time should precede motion, which is his cause, and progenitor. Again they say [In every instant and moment assigned, is the beginning of time to come, and the end of time past: then time hath been before this first instant, and consequently motion, and the world.] But the cause of these errors proceedeth from the misunderstanding of words, when they would bar that this word (before) should signify any thing else then some part of time. For as well in the divine as profane writings of all authors, who can speak fitly and properly, we may find that this particle (before) signifieth more than a part of time, for sometimes it denoteth the extreme: as is said in the proverbs, 
Prou. 8.  [The Lord hath possessed me in the beginning of his way before he created any thing, I have had principality from everlasting, 
Eccles. 24.12.  and before the earth.] And in Ecclesiasticus, [He created me from the beginning, and before the world.] Ovid himself in his Metamorphosis useth this manner of speech, [Before the sea, the earth, and heaven which covereth all things,] though that being of a fine, and subtle spirit, he was not ignorant, that time slideth away by reason of the turning of heaven. Moreover this word (Ant) signifieth amongst the Latins, the highest degree, whereof is derived (Antistes) he which is principal, and chief among others. Sith therefore this particle (before) hath divers significations, why will our Peripatetics restrain it to denote any other thing, but only a portion of time. Would they not grant me this, that by a certain order the matter was before the form, and yet preceded it not in time? So is it that God was before the world, by a certain order of eternity. What they farther infer [That the instant is the end of time past, and the beginning of time to come: 
Of the point as instant. ] We answer them, that as the point is to things continued, so is the instant to things succeeding. Now the point is sometime the extreme of one part of a line, and the beginning of another part: and sometimes also it is the beginning of the whole line, and not the end of any part precedent. So the instant and moment wherein the world had being, was the beginning of the time to ensue, and not the end of any past. They add another argument against this doctrine, [That (say they) which passeth on hath something both before, and after it] But I'll proceed farther, and grant them more, to wit, that all that which passeth on returneth to the same point, from whence it began to pass. For the water returneth to the sea from whence it had an original. The body returneth to the earth from whence it was borrowed. The soul, 
All things return to God.  and other intellectual things created of God (I except that which the Scripture teacheth us of the reprobate) return to himself, of whom they were engendered. And all essences produced from the divine thought, make a full circle beginning in God, and finishing in God himself. So must time return into the same eternity, whereout it proceeded, and which shall remain (this same ceasing) in such sort as it consisted before it. And therefore we answer those who demand how the creator could precede the fabrication of the world, that he proceeded it by an eternal enduring. Wherefore they conclude just nothing against the Creation of that which then was, and is after the generation of things. Others which reason upon the point, which we have delivered concerning the opinion of Auerrois, that the world is not corruptible, & therefore not engendered, argue thus. [That which is dissolved into another thing, is divided: but considering that beside the world, there is nothing, into which it can be dissolved, it must therefore endure everlastingly.] To which we may answer them, 
How the world is dissolved.  that the world is dissolved according to his parts, to the end that it may remain in a better estate. But now we dispute not of the dissolution, but only of the original thereof. And it may seem nothing contrary to Christian religion, that the work of God may always have a being: but far otherwise then as we see it, and which shall be then, when we, most blessed, shall inhabit the new heavens and new earth, in life everlasting. And herein do we concur with sundry great Philosophers, who esteem, that it is ill done to suppose, that those things which immediately proceed from the blessed God, can perish. And therefore we affirm that the soul is immortal, because it was produced, and inspired by God: and that the body itself shall obtain eternity, when afterwards in the resurrection it shall be revested with the nature of the soul: which subject we have amply discoursed upon in the second part of our Academy. But it is ill-concluded, to take away all beginning from things, by reason of the perpetual enduring of the same. 
The opinion of divers, is that the celestial spirits moo●e the spheres  For (as we have declared) it were to argue by natural generations, of the divine masterpiece of work, which surpasseth all sensible consideration. And sith we are in this talk of the enduring of the world, we may further note, that those, who have thereupon imagined to take away the original thereof, have taught, that the spirits moving the spheres, should obtain felicity in the eternal recourse of the heavens: which point Aristotle enforceth himself to demonstrate, in his most lofty part of Philosophy, where repeating divers considerations more lofty then in any other place, he sharply contendeth for this eternity of the world. And john Lescot seemeth to grant him more than he requireth, when he saith, that the spirits are blessed, not only moving the spheres, but for so much as by such revolution, serving God, they communicate perfection to things here beneath. To which, agreeth that which Plotin, entreating of heaven, and of the soul of the world, saith, [It is an absurd thing, and discordant, to suppose that that soul, which did for a time contain the heaven, should not always do the same, as if by violence it had contained it.] And thereupon he concludeth that the world should endure for ever, because the principal part of the soul thereof, cannot be dissolved, nor the nature thereof impair. Aristotle also amongst his other considerations inserteth this, [That the prince of this worldly palace being eternal, not receiving any vicissitude, or changing, it is most likely that his palace should also be eternal: and that his ministers, or celestial spirits, being altogether addicted to perpetual motion, should never take rest.] But that we may untie this knot, we will say, that it is an error of comparison, to argue of that which hath his beginning immediately from God, in respect of the creator, and of that, which is here below, in regard of things above, and of the immediate end of every thing in comparison of his last end. For the immediate end of unreasonable creatures, is to live, 
Of the sundry ends of all things  and feed themselves; but their final end is to serve man's use: which according to the mind of sundry wisemen, is the end of all things here below. And the immediate end of man is to govern his house, and family, or the commonwealth; to contemplate, traffic, and such like businesses: but his latest end is to attain to God, or to felicity, be it, as one would say through a Stoical virtue, or by a Peripatetic contemplation, or by Academic purifying, or (which is most certain true) through faith, and grace according as our religion doth import. And also we affirm that the immediate end of the spirits separated from God, and of the corruptible matter, is to govern the heavens, and men, and such other things, as have been committed to their charge. But their last end is their only contemplation of that first essence, from which they derive their felicity (as Aristotle himself testifieth in his Ethics.) Suppose then that they cease to move, & from their immediate end, yet shall they never cease to be blessed: no more than man shall be less happy, when he shall cease to govern the commonwealth, or to perform his other temporal businesses. And certainly it is marvelous that any can think, that the Angels, and celestial spirits should obtain their happiness, by moving the heavens continually about, seeing that all movings (as the Philosophers teach) do tend to a resting. But none can say that the spirits shall not cease, because they still labour; but when they have accomplished, and performed their work, and delivered such favour to terrestrial things, as they were charged with. And for the soul, whereof Plotin makes mention, one may likewise affirm that it shall not cease to give life to the universe, when it shall cease to move. For (as we have already heard) we maintain not the annihilating of the elements, of the world, or the parts thereof; but rather the resting after the motion: in such sort as all nature must be, in the end, after sundry revolutions reduced to the rest of the Sabbaoth, unknown to many learned men. Let all those then, who trouble themselves without mean, or measure to search out the end of the worldly frame, or contend about the original thereof, here fix their foot, least running without ceasing in their fantasies after this perpetual moving, they never rest, and least by no light, they can behold their repose, being always troubled with a continual course. Now then ASER, I leave to you to prosecute the confutation of divers other arguments, upon this matter of the Creation.   


Machinations.  Of many other devices, which they invent, who pretend to overthrow the doctrine of the Creation of the world, performed by the Creator thereof. Chapter 5.  ASER. 
BEsides that, which we have hitherto heard, concerning the reasons, and arguments, whereupon many depend, who deny that the world had a beginning, I find that such are willingly induced to think, 
Reasons against the doctrine of the creation of the world.  that by reason of this new creation, or generation of the universe, there might seem to arise some new devise in the Creator, because of the newness of the work, & by consequence an alteration of his mind or will: which cannot happen to the most perfect, and immutable, neither within himself (for nothing can move itself) nor outwardly without himself (for then that should consist and increase which was without him by the impairing and wearing away of the most infinite) These are the terms, which Aristotle, Auerrois, Moses of Egypt, and their disciples use, alleging many other considerations, which Cicero in the person of the Epicure, enueighing against Plato, in his fluent and eloquent speech hath collected in the discourse of an oration. 
Cic. 1. of the nature of the Gods.  [With what eyes (saith he) could your Plato behold the art, and composition of so great a work, by the which he saith the world was builded, and composed by God? What inventions of buildings? What iron works? what lifting levers? what engines? what ministers had he in so great a business? How is it that the air, fire, earth, and water could obey to the worke-master? whence issued the five forms, whereof all the rest are form, falling out fitly to compose the soul, and produce the sense?] And a little after he proceedeth [I would feign ask these fellows, why upon a sudden these builders of the world started up, who had been a sleep by the space of innumerable ages? For though there was then no world, yet were there certain ages, although they were not such as are made of a number of days, and nights, by course of years (for I confess that those could not come to pass without the turning of the world: but there was of infinite time a kind of eternity, which no term, nor circuit of time did measure. Nevertheless none can divine of what space it hath been, because it falleth not into human sense, that there could be any time then, when time was not. Then in such an unlimited space, why should the providence be idle? why should he fly labour? and what cause was there, why God like the Sheriff of a city, should desire to adorn the world with signs, and lights? If it were to them that God might the better dwell at his ease, he had then an infinite time before dwelled in darkness, as if in an hole, or by-corner. But if we think that he hath thus beautified heaven, and earth, because he delighted in the diversity thereof; what may this pleasure of God be, whereof he was so long time before deprived? May it be for love towards man, as you might infer, that God made all these things? But hath this love been for wisemen, or for fools? if for the wise, then to small purpose (God wots) hath this so exceeding great compiling of things been made. If for the foolish, first there was no occasion why God should seek to deserve any thing of the evil; then what hath he gotten when every one being a flat fool is most miserable, in that he is not wise? For what can we name that's worse than folly?] hitherto Cicero. Alcinois speaking like him doth farther add: That sith there is nothing beside the world which may do it violence, it can suffer neither malady, nor consumption, nor any dissolution at all. Forasmuch then as it must perpetually endure, it followeth also that it hath been without beginning. Avicen according with him, saith [He which negotiateth by the power of another, may instantly produce that, which before he could not: for he must attend the pleasure of such as work with him: but the first that worketh by his proper power, needs not attend, but work continually.] Behold then, how the servants of the world contend for the dignity of their prince, endeavouring to make him eternal, as if voluntarily subjecting themselves to a continual revolution, they would defeat themselves for ever attaining to any rest, wherein consisteth true felicity. But we must fight for the sovereign Creator, which is our peace, and true Sabbaoth: defending like good and valiant warriors his eternal rest, whereto all revolution of the world doth refer itself; and presently it will appear (he himself aiding us) how weak those engines are which our adversaries have planted against his work, and against the wall of truth.  

Answer to the arguments of the Philosophers.  First we will consent to Aristotle, and to the defenders of his doctrine, that there came to God, by the framing of the vniuers, a new imagination; but full of reason, and without any alteration in his nature, or will, and moreover the same new-minde was properly real, and all one with his eternal will, towards the generation of the world, to performance whereof, he also proceeded according to his good pleasure. But I wonder at so many instances, as they intent to found upon this new-thought, seeing we behold, how assidually many new things are produced, whereof returneth a new-thought either towards God framing, or governing, or at least (as they say) so, as may be towards their wished and desired end. I demand then why should the new-thought of creating the world, make more against the majesty of God, and not the invention of the new parts thereof, every moment arising? Algazel Sarasyn holds it not unmeet, that the most perfect agent, having all conditions thereto concording, deferred nevertheless to produce his work in effect, so long as he pleased, and that then he performed it, without any motion in him of novelty. And there is no Philosopher which proveth the contrary, by any demonstration, concerning this newness, which they presuppose in God, but do full oftentimes contradict themselves. And so it is that Aristotle in his book of the world, after having in the beginning declared God, Prince, Governor, and Creator of this universe, doth afterwards deny it, proceeding by reasons derived from sense. For thereby he endeavoureth, to demonstrate the eternity of the world, and amongst other arguments he useth this same. [It is most certain, that the agent either of deliberate purpose, or by nature, if he be good, putteth the good in practice, as much as in him possibly lieth, if there be nothing to hinder him.] Certainly we confess that the good is naturally addicted to community. But we hold that although the agent, by his labour, & industry, endeavoureth with all his power to get the good, and obtain it, yet nevertheless in the distribution thereof, he bestoweth it in such manner and sort, as he pleaseth. Why should we not then affirm, that the supreme Creator, through his immutable and omnipotent will, having from everlasting the good for his object, to the end to put it in practice, doth according to his good pleasure proceed to the performance thereof? But if any passing farther, will argue, that the good doth naturally become common: hereto, mounting much higher than Philosophy doth require, we answer; That for ever God, who is the sovereign good, doth increase himself in his son, and spirit coeternal, by which son, and through which holy spirit, one sole essence, and substance, he produced of eternity, and continually the exemplaries, and Ideas of all things, by an eternal measure always present, being the work and possession altogether. We tell thee then, O Epicure, that God remained not in sloth, & idleness before the Creation of the world, 
john 1.  he that by the testimony of jesus Christ, doth always work, whereof none knoweth but the Creator, save only the son, and he to whom the son shall have revealed him. And he which is most blessed in himself slept not, O Cicero, no more than having no need of any thing beside himself, he framed not this worldly tabernacle for his own use, with so great beautifulness; but rather for man: not foolish, or wicked; but just, and wise, or at least, 
Proverb. 8.  that in this terrestrial habitation he might learn wisdom, and goodness, to be made at length a worthy citizen of the celestial palace. This is the delight, and pleasure which his sapience received in the compass of the earth, and in the sons of men (as the wiseman saith.) But neither Aristotle, nor Auerrois, nor Cicero, nor the Epicures, and Atheists of our time, have attained to such supreme Philosophy, as to understand this language of the holy Ghost. Excellent well did that thrice worthy Mercury, the prince, and most ancient of all Philosophers, acknowledge, as the whole work of his Pymander doth testify, and himself also when he saith, that God, whom some call Nature, mixing himself with man, performed a wonder, surpassing the reason of all wonder: wherein beholding his own image, he smiled upon him through great love, and gratifying him as his own son, gave him all his works to serve him: to the end to reduce to himself all things by him, with whom he was mixed, but himself before any thing else, because that being purified, and acknowledging his divine race, he might be made most worthy of God. The eternal omnipotent than had no need of tools to frame the world with: he, I say, that by his only commandment performeth all things. Neither had he need of help to produce forms, who is himself the Architype, and giver of all forms, and replenished with all fecundity. Neither is it a strange thing, that the elements should obey him, which by his word only have been settled in their places. Neither dwelled he in an hole, or a corner, nor in darkness, whom heaven, & earth cannot contain nor comprehend, and who is all light; but within the ample temple of this immense, & intellectual sphere, whose centre is all that which every where subsisteth. There he inhabiteth those everlasting ages, which no thought, except himself, can comprise. It is no marvel therefore, if humane reason be so often deceived in the search of that which is enclosed in the closerts and cabinets of the sovereign worke-master, and revealed but to very few. And for the saying of Alcinois, that there is nothing beside the world, whereinto the world can be dissolved: I answer him, that we teach not that it must be consumed, and brought to nothing, though it hath had a beginning of enduring. But say it is so: God shall have no need of any thing, for this business, no more than he had need of a subject, to make and compose his work of: by reason that his creation, or dissolution is free, and delivered from the laws of natural generation, and corruption, as we have heretofore already declared. Neither had he need of help, O Avicen, who through his proper power, and according to his own good pleasure, performeth of his own liberality all things, not by nature, and necessity, as those imagine, to whom the eternal power of God, and his love, for which he created the world, are hidden, as in the process of our discourse, we may more amply declare. But first let us hear of AMANA, concerning those things, which have caused the Philosophers to err from the truth.   

Concerning those causes which have made the Philophers to err from the knowledge of truth, and of their ignorance concerning God, and his works. Chapter 6.  AMANA. 
WE may by our precedent discourse easily understand what be the strongest engines, which the Philosophers have planted (but in vain) against the walls of supernal verity, in this point concerning the creation, and we need not think it strange that they be deceived; for it is a doctrine, not usurped by human arrogancy, but infused into the hearts of the small ones and humble, through illumination by the holy spirit, which mocketh such as think themselves wise, & scorn all others; leaving them in the darkness of their blinded presumption: as contrariwise the same spirit directeth, & conducteth those, whom he replenisheth with his own virtue, to contemplate in most clear brightness the excellent mysteries of God, and nature. But to the end that we may partly proceed to the discovery of their ignorance, who do arrogantly assume unto themselves the name of wisdom, abusing even to this day many unskilful in the knowledge of piety, by their grave & ornate writings, being in show and appearance like somewhat that savoureth, as it were  & entire, true & profitable: though being profoundly examined, one may find therein all clean contrary, & a marvelous repugnancy not only generally between them all, but even in the particular writings of each of them. I would willingly ask to be resolved of them in this point, how is it that they know the most blessed God (for now I speak to such as are not very far off from religion, and godliness; for as for Atheists, and such as believe not God, we will deal with them apart in the sequel of our discourse) I doubt not but they will answer me, that they have knowledge of God, by the motions, and other sensible things, which lead them by the hand to all such things as may be known by us. For these be their common sayings. [All our knowledge proceedeth of sense. And the experience of true discoursing is, 
That by means of sensible things one cannot attain to the knowledge of God.  that it agree with that which is perceived by sense: that being best known, which best agreeth with sense.] But I would entreat them to tell me if sensible things have an agreement of one and the self same name, or of a name common to many, with the sovereign God: It is most certain that they are not of one signification, or name (to the end that we may follow their own institutions, by which they teach that God, and things created, do not agree in a self same proportion of substance, or essence.) And if one nominate all kinds, he shall name them (saith Aristotle) by many sundry names. But if God and his works, are divers in reason; then is it no marvel if the Philosophers proceeding by things here below deceive themselves in the knowledge of God. For how can they imagine of his high Majesty by the motions, & these things sensible, seeing the Eternal is altogether exempt from sense and motion? Doth not Aristotle affirm, and after him Auerrois the Arabian, that God is altogether different from the manner of creatures? That he is the first mover, not being moved? Is it not to deprive themselves of the true knowledge of God by sensible things, when they separate him from the manner of creatures? Let us not think it strange then, if those, who admit nothing, but that which they can invent and comprise by natural reasons and syllogisms derived from sensible things, enforce themselves to take from the Omnipotent many things, which are to them hidden, and unknown, being only received by an holy intellect, and by a pure and celestial thought divinely infused: as are these verities following. [That God hath created the world: That of a free, and liberal will, he framed, and ordained it, when and according as it pleased him: That it belongeth to man, the masterpiece of work of his power, to consider what this great God produced according to Nature, and what according to his bounty innate: How he dealt in his works; briefly all the secrets of so wondrous a workman.] But to return to our purpose, I wonder how these Philosophers will on one side distinguish God altogether from the creatures, and on another side will measure his almightiness and power by that which they consider of things here below. I would entreat them to hear (and yet they have no occasion herein to do it, for they know it well enough already, I speak therefore to their scholars) that which Saint Dennis first instructed in their doctrine, 
Dennis in his Hierarchy.  and afterward lightened with the beams of the holy Ghost, hath said of the Eternal. God (saith he) is every thing in excellency. For every good thing which we behold in these domestical things, we must dedicate and appropriate the same to GOD in the most excellent sort, that we can. For every thing which appeareth fair in the work, should flourish much fairer in the worker. And that which is in itself worthy of the simplest, 
The good, in a better is ever most excellent.  and meanest commendation, is in him found to be the best, and most excellent of all, for good in a better is ever most good. Good is wisdom in a citizen, better in a Precedent, and most good in a king. Good is fortitude in a soldier, better in a captain, but most good in a prince. The like is to be thought concerning clemency, liberality, and other virtues, and ornaments. Sith than fecundity, puissance, vigour, piety, beauty, magnificence, and such other properties do shine in things here below; much more must they in the divine thought shoot out their beams in sovereign brightness. For in the creatures all these virtues, like borrowed colours, do point out the soul of the world: but in the celestial prince, they flame out in rays of his infinite essence, which uniteth all things, being appropriated & dedicated unto it. See then how we must speak, and believe concerning the Sovereign, and how to measure his works by his omnipotency, and power. But forasmuch as the Philosophers do confess that God is the first, and best of all things; and all other things are under him, and subject to him; and that they praise, and commend in them, fertility, liberality, generation, and such other virtues, and faculties; which from time to time do here make manifest their effects: wherefore should they not acknowledge them in the Sovereign good God, who saith in Esay, [If I give fruitfulness to others, shall I be barren?] They may tell me that they separate from God; not only all that which feeleth his own imperfection, but all that also, which wanteth of perfection: and thereof it ariseth that they take from him all fertility, concerning things that are without him, lest any new thing, or alteration might be attributed to the everlasting, and immutable: and likewise the liberty of contingence, lest as if imperfect, 
All things enforce themselves to represent the image of God.  he might seem to negotiate under hope of reward: and yet they deny him not the liberty, by which he worketh as is convenient for him. Certainly these be subtle, and sharp allegations, and yet of small force. For let me ask them, if all schools teach not, that the things of this world enforce themselves to their power, to represent the image of God? The Platonists in every discourse, do acknowledge it as well as the Theologians. Yea the Peripatetics themselves agree in this point, as their master teacheth in the second treatise of the soul, in such words. [It is the most natural deed of all living things, so far forth as they be perfect, not impotent, to make another thing like to itself: as the beast a beast, the plant a plant, because they participate of the divine, and eternal essence, so much as they can. For all essences desire it, and all things which follow their course according to nature, work for the love of it: but they cannot imitate it continually and with perpetual proportion, because no corruptible thing attaineth to be one and the same in number.] These be very obscure sayings, but yet by them we may learn that all creatures tend according to their faculty, to agree with the semblance of God; and by how much more each member of this worldly body is more perfect, by so much more doth it enforce itself; as if in emulation, to imitate the creator of it. It is true that Auerrois doth interpret this text of Aristotle, concerning heaven. But how should the heaven be this Eternal, whom all things should enforce themselves to follow, considering that it of itself is eternal, in favour of whom, the elements, heaven itself, and every creature doth work? Doth not the doctrine of Aristotle resound in each point, that God is the end of all things, in desire of whom they are moved as to the thing loved and desired? But leaving this Arabian Auerrois, who studieth in all his works to deface, & mar many other sentences of his master, that he may defend that which he imagineth; let us conclude, that according as the Philosophers confess, the elements in their being, the plants in their life, and fruitfulness, the living creatures in a better life, and in their condition such as it is, imitate in emulation the divine power and perfection; and that man endued with the singular gift of liberty, and free will doth in the same imitate God, and beareth in a better estate and condition, than any other thing, his image, and semblance: By such considerations (say I) is also proved the freedom and liberty of God, always tending to good, according to his good pleasure, because he containeth within himself that which he conferreth upon others. And briefly to answer all their reasons heretofore alleged, let us hold, that that Sovereign perfection, which is in God, wanteth not in the lowest degree, nor for the cause thereof, nor yet that his simple unity is distributed into a multitude, because that in itself, by infinite power, it containeth all things. Neither doth the intellectual soul degenerate, although (as they teach) it exerciseth the power to feel, 
Proper faculties to be considered in God.  to strengthen, to cause increasing, and to move according to his estate. For (that we may mount to higher considerations) God perceiveth with such his senses, as the holy Scriptures attribute unto him: He moveth all other things, himself remaining stable; he giveth them strength, and feedeth them with the food of his wisdom. But he performeth all these things by a means, by a perfection & power, which is unknown to human spirits, except they be illustrated with his light. And there is in him a fertility without travel, which is the fountain of all other things, through which he produceth always within himself, but outwardly he doth it at the pleasure of his will. Which because it is the rule of contingence, it is not possible, nor fit for us to search out the cause of the first beginning. For when we are thereto arrived, Aristotle himself doth charge to stay: for God hath no need of any precedent disposition, nor of help; neither did fear resistance, nor was hindered by space, he, who in commanding created all things. But the causes of things here below, the instruments and subject framed by his word, require a precedent disposition, have need of an application, attain succession of time, and seek such helps, as are requisite for such a one, as negotiateth by power limited. And therefore (as we have already said) when they deduce their reasons from these conditional and natural workers, to him, which is free, and delivered from all these things, they fall into divers errors. But if by the works, which they contemplate in this universe, they do enforce themselves to attain to the knowledge of the Sovereign Architect, then let them attribute unto him all these things after a convenient & perfect manner: separating from him all that denoteth feebleness, and impotency in the worker. And then they shall see that the supreme things of the Architype, accord by a sweet and melodious consonancy to those which are more base and mean; all which are comprised in the creator, as in a model and pattern, and contemplated by us here below, as in a shadow or trace. But this shadow, and much more the trace, doth want much of him, whom they represent. And yet by them, as by a token, or privy note, we attain to some obscure knowledge of the creator: although his works do agree with him neither in different proportion or signification, nor yet in all and through all in the same reason, but only by a certain resemblance they represent unto us the perfect fashion of supernal things, by their most gross and base nature every one in their degree. But this is sufficient concerning this subject: now speak we of the authority of such witnesses, as make the creation of the world undoubtable, which we refer to you ARAM to declare unto us.   

Of the authority of such witnesses, as make the creation and newness of the world undoubted. Chapter 7.  ARAN. 
AS we have seen, how weak and feeble, the arguments of Philosophers, against the creation and newness of the world are: so is it expedient also, that being ready for the combat, we march in battle against them, armed with true and strong reasons: and under the authority of very good, and approved witnesses, to the end to make undoubted to all, 
Many witnesses of the world's creation.  that, which we have already declared concerning the creation of the universe. And first we will recite those, who being worthy of credit, have taught it us. We have already seen how that the opinion of Plato (concerning this generation of the world) accordeth with the doctrine of Moses. Mercurius Trismegistus in his Pimandre delivereth in few words the same sacred mysteries, rendering the composition of this universe, and of the governors thereof, and of all things created, to be undoubtable. And by the base elements he advertiseth us of the pure workmanship of nature, united nevertheless with the thought of the Creator. Which elements he affirmeth to be for this purpose, established by the will of God only, and yet in far worse condition, then before they were in the worker. Empedocles of Agrigentum, and Heraclitus of Ephesus affirm not once, but oftentimes the world to be engendered, and corruptible. Democritus teacheth, that it hath had beginning, that it one day must perish, and never again be renewed. Hesiod and Orpheus the Poets sing that it hath been created. Thales one of the seven Sages affirmeth, 
Hieraclus.  that this round frame is the work of God. Pythagoras & Hieraclus his expounder, confess God creator, & father of all things. To which accord Avicen Arabian, Algazel Sarrasin, Philo no less excellent in doctrine, then in Greek eloquence, and Alcinois the Platonist, who saith, (It is necessary for the universal world to be the perfectly-beautious work of God.) And many such other authors the most commended for learning, whom it would be too long & tedious to rehearse, affirm the same. But leaving the testimonies of strangers, let us come to such as have received from divine oracles, 
A certain approbation of the doctrine of Moses.  by supernatural illumination, that which they have taught unto us. We have heard that which Moses teacheth us concerning the generation of the world, now let us consider how his doctrine, or rather the doctrine of the holy Ghost speaking by the mouth of so excellent a prophet, is confirmed unto us by miracles, prodigies, oracles, and prophecies: and lastly by the consent of every part of his writings; as also by the grave authority of those who in their interpretations of them do confirm and approve them. 
Of miracles. Exod. 4.7.8.9.10. etc.  Concerning his miracles they are all most manifest to such as have read his books. The rod is turned into a serpent, and again returned into the former shape: It devoureth the magicians rods, showing that the sorceries of unclean spirits, and all their puissance and force is consumed by the power of God, which wrought and dealt in Aaron and in Moses. He bringeth forth infinite little beasts and of sundry sorts, which prick both man and beast: he draweth water out of the stone, giveth quails from heaven, bringeth thunder, a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night, and also the dark night, and doth all this by the word of the living Lord, who one while terrifieth, and another while comforteth his people. He sendeth slaughter among the Egyptians, sudden loss and ruin to the wicked, fire among the proud, and leprosy to her that murmured; and preserveth for a long time a great number from sickness, and their garments from waxing old, and wearing. Moreover he feedeth them with heavenly food, and giveth them victory over all their enemies. Such things and many such like things doth the sovereign architect of this universe perform by his prophet, to the end to approve his doctrine, and to teach us his truth thereby. To this end also by the word of Moses he appeaseth monsters, 
Prodigies.  causeth the thunder to cease, healeth such as were empoisoned: to the end that so much the more through such prodigies, his law, the wisdom of life and doctrine, by which he instructed his people, might be celebrated. And concerning Oracles, 
Oracles.  they have not been delivered unto us from a Delphic Apollo, from a jupiter, from a Pallas, or any feigned sapience, or else from some new-found godhead; but they been given us from the mouth of the living Lord, whose voice the innumerable multitudes of Israel did sometimes hear. But if some (as there are many amongst us) will not believe Moses alone, relating all these things, nor his people which have written of them as he himself did, yet let them at least give credit to the many grave and sage Authors, who affirm them for a very truth: 
Author which consume Mose● writings.  as to Berosus the Chaldee, to Manethon the Egyptian, Hierome the Phenician, king Darius, Mendesian Ptolemy, Menander of Ephesus, Nicolas Damascenus, Abiden the Historiographer, Estieus, Theodore, Chorilus and Ezekiel the Poets, Demetrius the Historian, Hecatè of Abdera the Philosopher, and above forty other learned, recorded for testimony by josephus, Aristobulus, 
Prophecy  Tertullian and Eusebius, who all agree in recitation of the foresaid wonders. Let us proceed and come to the prophecies. Of them Ptolemy in his book of Fruits saith, (Those only who are inspired by God, prophecy of particular things.) If then Moses in his doctrine, and all the other prophets which have followed him, have prophesied of so many particular actions to the king of Egypt, to the Tribes, to many princes and kings, as well concerning themselves, as also concerning their cities, and people, who will doubt that they have been instructed by the spirit of God? Who can accuse them of falsehood? who will make doubt of their doctrine? If one read the text of Moses, all points therein are so replenished with prophecies, and future events, that there is nothing left out there concerning that which belongeth to the mysteries of divine and philosophical matters, nor of the Messias then to come, nor yet of all whatsoever should afterward come to pass; as is evident to those who have the eyes of their minds illuminated, and who understand the books of the law, to see clean through a great many veils, under which (as was most meet) the prophet did hide so many profound mysteries. What man then of sound judgement that making small or no account of such and so great sacraments, will rather than to believe in them, have recourse to the monuments of certain Philosophers, not approved by so many witnesses, and whose writings savour no whit of divine matters? We may very well receive their instructions so far as they differ not from the doctrine of holy writ: but we must altogether reject that which relying upon their own authority, or their own invention supported by their reasons, and indeed not in many places ought worth, (which) they induce beside that which is contained in the writings of Moses and the Prophets. For if we will show reverence to authors, 
What authors are worthy of belief.  to which I pray you, should we show more, either to Aristotle, Auerrois, Epicures, and such like, who only do shine with a small light of humane doctrine, or else to Moses, to the Prophets, to Solomon the wisest of all his time, to the Evangelists, and to the Apostles, every of which in sapience, in wisdom, in manners, in prophecies, in oracles, and in all kind of holiness do shine, and flame like burning torches? Who affirm in an unused style that which they speak concerning divine things, proving them with peril of their lives, and confirming them by prodigies: and speaking of things natural, humane, and base, above all common capacity of men, and penetrating into most deep secrets by illumination of the holy spirit, do with most bright clearness manifest them to all those which have eyes to see, and ears to hear. And therefore Eusebius hath excellently written to this purpose, 
Eusebius in his ecclesiastical history.  speaking thus, (You shall find out the errors of the Ethnic Philosophers, not by me, but by the contradiction, and marvelous repugnancy among themselves: and when I compare them among themselves, or with other common men, certainly I cannot deny but they have been worthy personages; but when I confer them with the Philosophers and Theologians of the Hebrews, and compare their doctrine, with the doctrine of those, frivolous and vain do all their inventions seem to me.) Moreover, know we not that by the one all things have been delivered humanly, and by the others divinely? And that those who would taste of the first draughts of wisdom, have been constrained to learn of the Hebrews? And therefore Porphirius in his book of Abstinence, adorneth with sundry praises the religious, or prophets among that people, calling them Philosophers, and assigning them the chiefest degree above all other Prophets and Magis, who have made profession of holiness. And Orpheus in his book which he hath written of the holy word, after he chased away all contemners of the divine ordinances and mysteries, confesseth that he learned out of the tables of Moses, that which he song of God, known only but to his Prophet. But above all the foresaid testimonies, 
Consent of the doctrine of jesus Christ with that of Moses.  worthy to be believed, to them (that which surpasseth all admiration) the doctrine of the celestial and divine messenger jesus Christ, the true Messias, anointed with divine graces, above any other prophet, doth accord. Who allowing and approving the doctrine of Moses, openeth and revealeth many secrets, which he received of God his father, and announceth the perfection of true religion: wherewith his apostles have so filled the whole world, that even to this day, all the wise men in every part of the world do embrace and reverence so excellent doctrine, as that, wherein shineth so much divinity and celestial brightness, that without comparison it surpasseth all human doctrine. Let us receive it then, even all of us that desire wisdom, because that never any more excellent did ever yet appear to mortal men, neither shall ever appear hereafter. And let us not make a stay in that that Socrates knoweth some thing, or that Anaxagoras seethe the light in darkness, or that Democritus draweth virtue out of pits, or that Empedocles enlargeth the path of his spirit, or that Archesilas, and Carneades attain to some new kind of knowledge, or that Aristotle proveth that which flieth from sense. But let us give full faith to the authority of so many irreprochable witnesses, who make the generation of the world undoubtable to us, and let us proceed to the reasons which further confirm it unto us, and which, ACHITOB, we desire to hear of you.   

Of the reasons making for the Creation and newness of the world. Chapter 8.  ACHITOB. 
AMongst those other arguments, which we have heard some Philosophers, object against the creation of the world, one hath been the disconueniencie of the newness thereof with eternal God, not being able to perceive how and which way it might come to pass: for by reason of the consideration of such a like question, to wit [which of the egg, or of the bird was first engendered; seeing that the egg without the bird, nor the bird without the egg could not subsist:] they have imagined that this world was eternal, and that the beginning of every thing engendered, was the end likewise thereof, through a perpetual course, and proceeding. But let me ask these doctors, 
Reasons for the newness of the world.  whence cometh this newness which we behold every day in all things of this world? For there is nothing which suffereth not vicissitude, and changing. Auerrois saith, that this proceedeth from new revolutions, which notwithstanding are ancient by an everlasting succession: and that there is the stay where the oldness, and newness is conserved. For which cause also some have affirmed, that heaven is some part new, some part old. But for as much as these Philosophers do teach, that revolutions are made by those disposing spirits, which are called the servants of the creator, or of the first mover, doth it not thereupon follow, that there is no stay in the heavens, but that they move anew to accomplish that which the first mover doth propose in a certain time to be performed, and who remaining stable doth give motion to all the rest? Wherefore we may say that the beginning of newness cannot be from heaven, nor through the spirits, but by the first mover, who at his good pleasure commandeth, and all things are made, and afterwards renewed by a secret order within himself not constrained by any necessity. For so it is that God proceedeth to his work, and so prosecuteth it, without being otherwise bound to base things: which Aristotle himself accordeth to, when he declareth that he is blessed, without any good that is strange, or not of himself. And farther I would willingly know with what kind of measure they would meat out the universe, who bear such favour to the eternity of the world? If by time (it be measured) then is not eternal, for those reasons which we have delivered heretofore in the discourse concerning the time of the Creation. If by eternity (it self) then let them remember that that is a possession altogether separated from time, and from motion, as hath been to us sufficiently declared. How then can this world be eternal which is equal in age to Time, and altogether subject to Motion? 
That the world cannot be eternal.  But if any one yet would hold that it is eternal, let him tell me, whether it endureth by the self same eternity which is in the blessed God, or by some other? If it be by another sort of eternity, then should there be divers eternities of governors, and of kinds, which should savour of the nature of the infinite: and also many infinitenesses should be contained in this world which is so small. If they will say, that the world subsisteth of the same eternity by which God is; certainly such are not worthy of any answer, but rather to be mocked at, who think the spheres, and their movers to be measured with God: for eternal enduring differeth not from God. But that which is changeable according to Nature, and operation cannot be measured with the same compass, as he who is altogether unchangeable. They will tell me that the eternity of the world differeth from that of the first agent; because the one being altogether divine is a possession at once altogether, and the other is successive. But I answer them that if it be successive, it hath certain portions; now such portions cannot be infinite, and therefore such eternity hath a beginning, and successive ending. Now if it be limited and bounded with these terms, how can it be that it may agree with the eternal, who is not closed, or limited by any ending? Besides, by what reason may this be called eternal, to which always something is added by a continual succession? For one can add nothing to the infinite, neither doth it increase at all. And therefore I ask them again that if their eternity subsisteth, what do become of the new revolutions? Shall we say they are conjoined with the former, or else that they begin a new infiniteness? If they grant the first, then will they be more in number then infinite. Auerrois saith, that this is no more disagreeable to successions, then to numbers, that infinite ten be infinitely repeated, which amount to so much as innumerable hundreds, without making any more increase in one part then in another. But good God who can hear these things with a quiet ear? By an impossible supposition which he deviseth in numbers, and which never cometh to pass, he would resolve the inconveniences which depend upon infinite revolutions, which he saith did precede all eternity. And for the other point, to think that the new revolutions should begin a new infiniteness, we have already answered that, saying, that many infinitenesses cannot be imagined in this world. But here leaving the successions & numbers, I would farther request these defenders of the eternity of this round frame to tell me, whether the moving spirits know the revolutions, or not? If they know them not, certainly men do them much injury to think, that they are ignorant in their motions, which many Astronomers know. If they know them all (being) infinite, how is it that by a finite understanding, which is in all creatures, they may comprehend things (that are) infinite? 
Reason taken from generation.  Again, sith that generation is bounded and limited by the undividable, and the last generation of any creature whatsoever by the last creature, what generation shall we say to be limited to the first? If they say there is no former, how is it then that there can be a latter? I wonder also at those ancient Sages of the world, and the modern likewise which follow them, when they declare all things to be moved, and ordained in God as in the last wished, and desired end; and yet doubt to confess that he is the ordainer, considering also that they call him the first mover. But if he hath ordained all things, 
Another of the moderation and government of things.  it followeth likewise that he must know them. For concerning that which some infer, that God hath only disposed the uppermost and highest things, and that the second causes engender the lowest: I demand of them, how it is that those here below are correspondent to those which are most high, considering there are divers ordainers? Doth not Aristotle say, [That there is but one only prince, for fear least things should be evilly disposed and governed?] Again, if all things depend of a desired and finishing cause, so that in favour thereof they become great: how is it that they have a being of themselves, seeing they seek to be perfect in another? Why have those any need of a preserver: which have no need of a creator? Indeed the son is preserved without the father, but without him he is not engendered. For what occasion then do these philosophers give a keeper to the members of the universe, and do take clean away from it any parents? What lies do they bring unto us that accuse others to be sellers of lies? For in one place they misconstrue and deny that, which in another place the truth constraineth them to confess. Auerrois in many places of his writings, 
How the Philosophers contrary themselves.  denieth that God created the world; and yet, interpreting the treatise of heaven, he calleth him Creator. So likewise Aristotle proceeding by sensible things mocketh at Plato, that at every word confesseth the world to be created: and in the book which he entitleth Of the World, he avoucheth God to be Creator of the universe. And in his Metaphysics he teacheth that he is Prince of the world. And how is it that the Prince is entered into an house which he neither hath builded, nor obtained by right of inheritance, nor bought with any sum of money? This is as he affirmeth that the supreme thought understandeth not the particular matters, for fear lest he should overlabour, or else wear himself. And yet in the treatise of good, and bad fortune, he often repeateth, that he hath excellent good fortune that is guided by God. But how doth he guide and direct that which he understandeth not? And how doth he render condign recompense, and reward for things well or ill done (as it is said in the same Treatise) if he doth not consider and examine the works of every one? Again we read in the Meteors, that God hath placed the pure fire under the globe of the Moon: and yet how hath he disposed and ordained that, which he neither made, nor hath knowledge of? Surely it would be a tedious matter to bring out all the contrarieties and repugnances of the writings of Philosophers, which do plainly confound themselves. But out of much I have selected this little, to the end that those who boast rather of the name of Peripatetics, or Auerroists, then of good Theologians, and Christians, may behold, that all their teachings are not solid, nor firm. Let us insert among our reasons, which confound their doctrine, the judgement of Saint Augustine, of Macrobius, and of many other learned men, who hold that the eternity of the world cannot subsist, and have place with so small memory of things done, as we have in our histories, as well holy as profane, neither yet with the invention of arts and many other things celebrated by Eusebius, Pamphilus, Clemens Alexandrinus, Berosus the Chaldee, Aristotle, Auerrois, Theophrastus, Epigenes, Critodemus, Philostophanes Egesius, Archimachus, Damasthenes, Aulus Gellius, and a great number of others of divers languages, and most plentifully by Pliny in his book of the natural history, where he confesseth to have collected part of his writings out of the said authors; 
The eternity of the world cannot agree with histories & invention of things.  with whom also, in that which they testify of the invention of things, the holy letters are of great authority, in that they do agree with them herein in many points. For although there be some difference concerning the names of those which have invented them, as the forenamed authors do not always agree among themselves; yet the invention found in time, is wholly confirmed by the same reason, and all that which disagreeth, is come either by reason of the languages, not being alike, or because that Historiographers, chiefly the Greeks', have attributed that to their nation, which properly appertained not to them. Now if the world had been from the beginning, yea even before the beginning, as many would have it: why then in the successive course of innumerable ages, was not that policy and kind of living invented, which we use at this present? Why not the use of letters, by which only, memory is made eternal? Why not the experience of many things? For none of all this is found to be, but within and since five thousand five hundred years, so long as the Scripture teacheth us that the world hath been created, being from the creation thereof to the nativity of jesus Christ (according to the common computation) three thousand nine hundred sixty seven years; what did the inhabitants of the world before this time so brief and short being compared with eternity, & to which the histories do refer the inventors & use of all things? Lived men then without policy, and without laws? without bread, without wine, without tillage of the earth? were they without the exercise of merchandise, without the study of good letters, of discipline, of warfare, of navigation, of building, of weaving, of sowing, of dressing wool: all which things have their invention famous but within a few years, and in divers seasons? wherewith lived they before? where dwelled they? how were they clothed? what did they being altogether ignorant of arts? Certainly it is mere mockery, that those who teach that the world is eternal, do themselves assign the inventors of laws, of arts, and of men's living, considering that both the one and the other could not consist both at one instant. Behold (companions) that which seemed good to me to note concerning the reasons making for the creation, the history whereof will put us altogether out of doubt in that which toucheth the principal arguments of the Philosophers against it, if we do amply entreat of their errors, when they maintain that God worketh of necessity, and not of free and frank will, which will serve us to morrow for a subject to begin the days discourse.  
The end of the first days work.    

THE SECOND DAYS WORK.  

Concerning the errors of these Philosophers, which say that God doth his outward work of necessity. Chapter 9  ASER. 
I Think (companions) we were yesterday sufficiently entangled in the discourse of the creation of the world, about that which concerneth the doubt, that remaineth in many. But ere we do farther enter into the cabinets of God and nature, it would not be unfruitful if we yet have an other pull with the Philosophers about this question [Whether of necessity, or of free choice, and frank will God was provoked to work?] For they supposed that the condition of necessity was fit and more convenient than was the matter of contingence, and therefore they appropriate it to God. Wherein they think verily to want no reasons for their purpose, and that these make specially for them [That God worketh by his proper substance, 
If the work of God be of necessity, or voluntary.  and not by any borrowed virtue: That the effects of the world, are of necessity, because they seem in no wise to proceed of a contingent cause; that by the same reason is to be considered the invariable, and necessary order of things, to the end that the vniuers be not confounded or troubled] Moreover the Philosophers supposed that it was a very unfit thing, for the divine understanding to work of necessity, and the divine will to work freely, considering that it is no less perfect than the divine thought. Now though that we (concerning these considerations) night take out of the quiver of reasonable discourse arrows enough against these Sages of the world, yet for that this point doth particularly touch the divinity, it may suffice to say with Plato, that one cannot pick out so great a mystery by reasons, but seek to learn the same by oracles. For it is sufficient to know that the great lawgiver recordeth that [God spoke, 
Genes. 1. Psalm. 33.  and it was done] and that with him agreeth the kingly prophet, saying, [he commanded, and it was established] to conclude, that all the scriptures teach us the same doctrine.  
But here let us declare, that that which seemeth thus to disturb the Philosophers, is nothing at all: For they presuppose a necessary disposition to be more perfect than the contingent cause: which they have left to prove, to those that should come afterwards. Now I beseech you, do we not more esteem a Prince, who directeth every thing according to his own good pleasure, then if urged by nature, or any other provocation constraining him, he should set his hand to any business? Who will blame liberty, which (as the Proverb saith) is hardly bought for gold? That, I say, which they themselves think to have been granted man for a most singular good? What perfection, what praise should be attributed to most lofty thoughts, if they were ever forced to perform that which is good? 
Liberty profitable for all things.  What dignity might appertain to a great king, if he did all things necessity constraining him, and nothing of a generous heart? And seeing by common consent, we acknowledge God to be the Prince of the world, what glory and honour should be given him for his government, for his wisdom, for his justice, for his clemency, if of necessity, and constraint he were drawn on to maintain that, which is in his tuition? What grace, what service, and adoration should we owe him? Why is it entered into nature, to sacrifice, as Aristotle saith? Why are we obliged (as Auerrois himself teacheth) to magnify God the creator in prayers and sacrifices? If God doth all things of necessity, what profiteth all this? For what cause is it convenient for us to pray, 
Prayers are fit for men.  if God be not appeased by prayer? To what end hath all mankind in every age, in all places, of every nation been addicted to adore a divinity? Surely we may thereof gather that prayers are fit for men; and that it is naturally grafted in our minds that God is moved by them. So many reasons than may well conclude, that the author of Nature doth never negotiate of necessity. And for that that he worketh by a proper substance, that is not of eternity, except in the spiritual work, from himself, whereof we have spoken in the 5. of our discourse. But for the outward work he proceeded thereto, according to his own will, when it pleased him; not constrained by any causes (for he is the only and principal cause of all things) nor for hope to get any good (for that he of himself is blessed, not having need of any other good. 
God is not subject to any order of nature. ) Furthermore also, the necessary effects conclude not any necessity in the prince, or in the first cause, considering that the second causes, which Plato and the other Sages call his servants, do work by his commandment in determined order; so that the necessity that therein is, dependeth upon his commandment, or upon the order, from which he absolveth them according to his own good pleasure. 
Dan. 3.  And thereof came it that the fire burned not the children in the Chaldean furnace: that the sun stayed his course by the space of a day at josuahs' commandment: that it went back ten lines or ten hours, 
Ios. 10. 2. Kings. 20.  in the time of Ezechias: That it was eclipsed at full moon, during the passion of jesus Christ. The Peripatetics, Atheists, and Epicures will laugh at this, and will say scoffingly: which of the Philosophers recounteth these things? These sellers of lies, which teach the laws, are mad (saith Auerrois.) But herein sith question is made concerning divine mysteries, what have we to do with such contemners of all piety? The sentence wherein we make stay, hath been celebrated by those which could judge. And men do rather believe one that affirmeth, than a thousand that deny: for negation concludeth nothing. And why should we care then though they deny altogether in words that, which many witnesses, yea and most wise, do assure to have proved in effect? The holy letters testify it, whereto we rather give credit, then to Aristotle, and all his scholars. And amongst a thousand most famous Philosophers and Christian Martyrs, which consent to this doctrine of truth, 
Ariopaguses of the Athenians.  is Saint Denis Areopagita, so called of the Ariopaguses or street of Mars, which was a court and assembly among the Athenians, first of nine persons elected by the chief Magistrates, and afterward increased to the number of fifty of the most principal, as well for learning, holiness of life, and wisdom, as also for riches, to the end that poverty might not induce them to corruption (as Androtion in the second, and Philocorus in the third book of the Athenian affairs do write.) This man then writing to Polycarpus, reprehendeth Apollophanes the Sophister in these very words, because he would not admit of the eclipse of the sun which came to pass at the death of the Messias [I know not with what spirit thou wert led to divine, 
Of the eclipse of the sun at the death of jesus Christ.  O Apollophanes, when, with me, contemplating the eclipse, which was against the order of nature, at the time that Christ suffered, turning thyself towards me, thou saidst (noble Denis, these are the changes, which come to pass sometime in divine things:) If thou canst; convince this of untruth. For I was present with thee in consideration of so great a prodigy: with thee I beheld it, judged of it, & thought it worthy of perpetual admiration.] But if any will not yet believe this most entire philosopher, let him hearken to that which the astronomers say. Esculus very skilful, and learned in this science, taught by astronomical numbers, that the sun went under 
* The ●amme.  Aries, and the moon under 
* The balance.  Libra, when the sun failed at full moon, and at that time the jews according to their custom celebrated the feast of passover. Moreover Phlegron one most excellent in reckoning the Olympiads, in his thirteenth book testifieth, that in the fourth year of the two hundred and second Olympiad there was an eclipse of the Sun, much greater than all those that had ever before happened; at which time was the passion of jesus Christ. 
Recalling of the sun in Ezechias days.  And for the going back of the sun in Ezechias reign, as also that which we read of the deluge of waters, with many other miracles contained in holy writ, the ancient memorial of the Persians, and Chaldeans do make notable mention thereof. And thence cometh it that the Persian priests do celebrate the memory of the triple Mithras, that is of the sun (as Denis and Strabo witness) which at the foresaid time appeared to perform a triple course, or to stay three times, from his accustomed progress into the west, retiring again into the east by a new kind of return for ten hours, and then returning again into the west. I leave, for this point, the other witnesses Philosophers, Gentiles, Chaldees, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Greeks', the Sibyl's, and many Historians brought for proof of the supernatural effects of omnipotent God, by josephus, Aristobulus, Tertullian, and Eusebius, whereof each by their writings may sufficiently instruct. And if authority do ought avail in disputation, let then the deposition of so many Sages prevail in this point, in a matter that Aristotle & his fautors deny in words only. Most prudently certain doth Avicen think that motion is neither necessary, nor violent, but in a mean betwixt both, in such sort, that it ever resteth at the pleasure of the Prince. And therefore it must be granted that the second causes are so alligated to the first cause, that they do nothing but as the other commands them. And yet it so governeth those things which it hath created and ordained, that it permitteth them to perform their ordinary proper motions. Now because that it seldom happeneth to the contrary, and that the order of their first institution persevereth in many things, and that most commonly: therefore did Aristotle judge that it was natural, and necessary. For as he saith in his treatise of natural hearing, [That is natural which cometh to many, and oftentimes:] And so could he make no farther search by sensible things. But the operations of God, 
By the necessity of effects one must not conclude the necessity of the cause.  and the alliance of things here below, with the first cause may not be searched out by discourse of reasons, but must rather, as we have declared, be learned of oracles. Thus is convinced of nullity, the progress which is deduced from necessity, appearing in the effects, to the necessity of the cause: because that necessity of the effects dependeth upon the order established by the first cause. And the effects also are not needful because they are all particular: for the work of nature is not bounded by the universal All, but by each particular which the Peripatetics themselves do rather nominate contingence, then necessary. But because the most subtle Philosophers do yet debate, that they be eternal, and that most needful is the coherence of the subject, with the worker; in which the proper essential, or the quiddity, (as they term it) is named of the subject: we may tender them an other reason for this pretended necessity: to wit, the correspondence of things with the exemplaries or eternal Ideas, celebrated by Plato, and defended by many sage and great personages, 
God hath produced all things by himself.  as hath already been shown. For this cannot consist, considering that the universal is a simple essence, which produceth nothing by the second causes, nor by the spirits, nor by nature, but only by himself: and also the first cause of all things created, before ever any soul, or any heaven, or any other particular thing, whatsoever was produced. To return therefore, from whence we strayed, the effect ensueth the ordinance, & immutable order of the supreme cause, if by the same it be not otherwise instituted. And whereas the Philosophers add farther, that the will of God hath equal perfection with the thought, which operateth of necessity: we confess that it taketh place, but it is in regard of the work within himself, whereby he engendereth eternally, the perfect image of himself, his word, the absolute Idea, and true pattern of all things. But we say, that he displayeth according to his good pleasure the outward effects, that from everlasting the divine thought hath described in the word. Surely I wonder at the Sages of the world, who acknowledge that God is most simple, and of himself most perfect, all other strange thing set apart, and yet presently (as if they had forgot their doctrine) think that God hath a needful bond with things here below, as if he could not subsist without them, nor yet be blessed. And how is he most simple, if he hath a necessary bond with other things? How is he prince of all things, if he be obliged to the service of the most basest? What dignity, or what condition hath he of a sovereign governor? Briefly to conclude this matter, let us take away all necessity from the Lord in regard of this round frame: and let us not doubt that the order of this universe shall decay, or be destroyed; if it be so, that the creator doth dispose, and vary it at his good pleasure: for he doth know how ever to direct in order, that which he hath once made, and ordained. For none need to fear the spoil of the work, when the workmaster sets hand thereto, by whose handling it is rather made perfect, than any whit marred. But yet before, we take any other subject, we must first hear of AMANA, the reasons which declare that God proceeded of free-will to his work.   

Of the reasons which conclude, that God proceeded of free and frank deliberation to the work of the world. Chap. 10.  AMANA. 
ALthough that by our precedent discourse we may easily judge, such (as maintain that God of eternity did by necessity his outward work) worthy rather to be despised then refuted, being against the doctrine of divine oracles: yet we will run over a few points, by which they themselves shall be pierced with their own darts. I would therefore first, desire them to tell me from whence come the monsters in nature? They may say, that this proceedeth either by defect, or super-abundance of matter: or else because that the qualities answer not in due proportion; or through corruption of the containing part, and such other considerations, which are subdivided by physicians into their species. But let me ask them, if that the natural causes work necessarily, why do they not perform every thing duly, seeing nature (as they say) wanteth nothing in necessary things? How then do natural causes work of necessity, when they fail? They may answer, that I would thereupon conclude, that they work by contingence, which if I said, what might follow thereon? But to leave all superfluous debate, let them remember, that it is an old sentence used in schools, that a thing is said to be necessary in two sorts: the one absolutely necessary; and the other conditionally necessary. Wherefore we attribute the first to God alone; 
A thing is said to be necessary two ways.  and the other to his creatures: so as we call them necessary according to the order appointed by the supreme creator. Which if the Philosophers deny, we will urge them with the work itself of these causes. For it is certain, that if they be faulty, and produce monsters, it cometh to pass, because that order which is delivered them by nature (as they say) or rather of the sovereign creator (as truth is) doth fail them. Now if they fail of the order, it than followeth, that it was not simply necessary for them, but given by the first cause, through virtue whereof, the rest subordained under it do work: from which if the first withdraw itself, they do not only fail, but become nothing at all. And if they may seem to perform any thing of necessity; this cometh unto them by reason of the law, which hath been given them by the Prince of Nature: who giving laws to others, is no whit for that thereto himself obliged. They may reply, that if our doctrine might stand, there should be no certainty of science, considering that it should consist of things, which otherwise might be: whereto Aristotle doth make denial. But we answer, that if he intendeth that those things which are known should be necessary according to the order of the vniuers: the like may ensue in those things, which may happen contrary to the order, according to the disposition of the eternal will. Now if they find too great difficulty herein for their capacity, what need we care? Let themselves (if they think good) unloose the knot. For fire may well be without burning, 
Dan. 3. The effect may be separated from the cause.  as indeed it hath been, as we have heard in the former speech. And likewise every effect may be separated from the cause, which hath produced it; yet nevertheless the bond remaining, by a certain correspondency, between the worker and the subject (that we may use school terms.) But proceeding farther, I would feign learn of these Peripatetics, whence it is, that things have a necessary covenant. They will say that it is by nature, as they prove by experience. 
What truly nature is.  But what is this their nature? Nothing truly, but the author of the universe, which is the true spirit not erring, seeing that (as they teach) the work of nature, is the work of the intelligence not erring, and by the ordinance whereof, all things have a due course. For there is nothing but serveth this supreme worker. [He stretcheth out (saith the prophet) the heavens like a curtain. 
Psalm. 104.  He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth, he toucheth the mountains, and they smoke.] But these naturalists may say (what have we to do with prophets, seeing we hold that none can have perfect knowledge, but in those things, which are proved by demonstration? And from whence fetcheth demonstration his original? Is it not from those principles, whose terms being known, we accord to them, or prove them by experience? Now if we believe demonstrations, by principles, and experiences, it than followeth that there be some things more certain than demonstrations. Oh execrable vice grown old amongst our people, that having had this happiness to be enroled in the number of Christians, 
●anitie of the ●emonstrations ●f Philosophers.  yet receive nothing for truth, and certainty, if it be not proved by such demonstrations as Aristotle hath declared, and wherewith (for all that) he is but little aided in his discourse concerning nature. For herein he proceedeth always by those maxims that he taketh to be confessed: so that the demonstration whereto his disciples give belief, is nothing else but a consequence drawn from the place of authority, or from the foundations by him supposed. Wherefore let us rather believe the holy scripture, which instructeth us, that many things, and especially divine, are known through the beams of supernatural illumination, and by the covenant of the holy word with our understanding touched by the truth. Let Epicures & Atheists than maintain how they list from Aristotle, That to know, 
What it is to know.  is to understand by demonstration. For us it is sufficient to hold our instructions from the prophets taught by the divine oracle: who by miracles, and prodigies, and great sacraments, approve (as we have already heard) that which they teach. And if we say that knowledge is an understanding by any thing, we may take ourselves to be wise in believing the doctrine of the holy Ghost, not any whit accounting of the Peripatetics, who have only kindled the light of their contemplation by the moving forms of the vniuers, and have not been able, with a pure cogitation, to contemplate him, who possesseth the highest degree of dignity amongst all essences, as their sovereign prince, and governor: having in the rest, rather given an artificial fineness, and base manner of proceeding, than any science. And this is that which privily their Master confesseth, when he entreateth of the last Analytics, or Resolutions, saying, that Science is of demonstration, and demonstration of the quiddities, as he nameth it, and by the proper differences of things to us unknown. For thereupon it followeth, that the principles of demonstration are unknown, and that from them one may bring, no whit, or very little demonstration. But resuming our principal point of the free, 
That the work of the universe is freely and willingly.  and frank will of God in his work, begun in time, we will argue more lively thus. [Seeing that the parts of this vniuers, are so disposed, that without any contrariety, or contradiction, they might have been otherwise ordered, it followeth, that they are contingent, and not ordained of necessity, but of free will.] Auerrois saith: [We confess not, that the parts of the world could be altered, because the world is an animal.] But I answer, in what place of Aristotle learned he this manner of disputing? He will that his authority should be for a principle of demonstration. Moreover from whence draweth he the consequence? Let him tell me, if the world be an animal, whether is it sensible, or insensible? If it be void of sense, then is it no animal. If it be sensitive: doth it see then? doth it hear, doth it smell, doth it taste, doth it eat? 
Whether the world be an animal.  But say we confess the world to be an animal (as it seemeth that Plato, and many other Sages would affirm) surely it is no animal, contained under the kind of animals. For all things in this frame are divided by all philosophers into a former division, before you come to the animal. But let us confess that it may be called an animal by some kind of answerableness and likeness: Wherefore then could not the disposition of the parts thereof be otherwise ordained? Why should it be disagreeable for man, to have only one eye in his forehead, as it is reported of some? Why could it not be made, to the other creatures, the upper jaw moving, and the undermost firm, as the crocodile alone hath? Why have not sundry beasts two knees, like the camel? Surely these, and such like things have been so disposed by the sovereign creator, that without any contradiction, or contrariety, might have been otherwise ordained, if we presuppose not the condition of the nature specified, such as the creator himself, hath according to his will prefixed. But let us farther proceed concerning the animal the world. 
Of the course and strait passage of the Ocean.  By what necessity hath the sea been in such sort disposed, that the ocean should pass through the narrow straits of Abyla & Calpe (high mountains, which antiquity called Hercules-pillers?) What need is there that from thence it should spread itself in length and breadth? That then it should stretch itself into the Tuscan, or Tirrhene sea? afterward gathering itself into the Adriatic gulf, than enlarging itself into the Siriacke sea, so running about by the Egean (which for the beauteous number of isles therein contained, is named the Archipelagus, or princess of seas) and from thence shrinking between most narrow passages the Hellespont is made? And again the Propontick where it dilateth itself, and where again it is straightened, is called the Thracian Bosphorus? Then this Ocean being once again widened, there is made the sea Euxine, that is to say the host, since the manners of the barbarous nations have been polished, and made civil, for it was first called Axenes, that is the inhuman host, because of the cruel, and fierce nature of the dwellers thereabout: And again mixing itself with the lake of Meotis, it is named the Cimmerian Bosphorus? What need is there also why Nilus passing by the Ethiopians, and Arabians into Egypt: and Tanais passing through the one and other Scythia, 
Of Nilus and Tanais.  and running almost into the midst of the lake of Meotis, should distinguish and separate the three parts of the world? And by what other needful ordinance is one part of the earth laid low in valleys, another stretched out into plains: this part raised up in billocks, that lifted up in lofty mountains; and that the floods and ever-running fountains and streams do flow in their seasons? Of what necessity also are some beasts of the earth fruitful, others barren? these dry, and those moist? Might not we easily (without any contrariety or repugnancy) imagine all the circuit of the earth to be plain, soft, and bearing fruit? And if God can perform that which we cannot think, as all the Sages who have believed in him do affirm, why can he not do that which we may imagine? Which if he can easily perform, these things than are not of necessity, no otherwise then of eternity, disposed in such sort as we see them, but according, and how, and when it hath pleased the sovereign creator of them. Now enough is said of these things: we must farther proceed in the consideration of God's works, wherein will greatly aid us, the understanding of one only principal and prime cause of the vniuers; that we may afterwards comprehend the marvelous effects thereof. And herein (ARAM) let be the subject of thy discourse.   

Of one only principal, and first cause of the universe. Chapter 11.  ARAM. 
THose, who have been commonly called the Sages of the world, have so much differed in their doctrine, even in the search which they have made of nature, following the course of their speculations, that amongst them who have been nourished in one family, & learned under one master, there are great contrarieties, either in doctrine, in manners, in religion, or in the end to which all these things tend. Which is chief happened unto them, by having settled the building of the world upon bad and discordant foundations, affying in their own powers, and inventions too feeble for so weighty a charge, as by rehearsing some points of their principles, we may easily understand. 
divers opinions of Philosophers touching the beginning of the world.  Thales Milesius supposed, that the water was the beginning of all things: because all the members of every living creature, seemed to be nourished by water, which as it is placed in the middle of the world, so doth the watery humour abide in the centre of the bodies of animals, from whence it ministereth nourishment to all the rest of the members. But his auditor Anaximander was of advise, that I wots not what infiniteness, called the boundless matter, was the principal subject, and first of essences, and because that by nature such matter hath neither form nor quantity, he thought that this was the substance of perpetual generation: in such sort that infinite worlds were already past, and hereafter infinitely to arise. Anaximenes' his disciple attributed the causes of all things to the infinite air. And his hearers Anaxagoras and Diogenes, disagreeing together, one of them would persuade that the infinite matter woven with divers parcels of all sorts and kinds, according to the condition thereof, had been beginning to itself: And the other, that the air endued also with divine reason, was the matter of things. Leucippus, Democritus and Diodorus affirm, that before all things, there were certain Atomoes, or little individable bodies, some smooth, others sharp, some round, others partly made of angles, partly turned and pointed, and some crooked, to be perceived by reason only, , without any vacuity, not engendered, immortal, eternal, incorruptible, which move them in an infiniteness, and through an infiniteness that is emptiness, which bodies are in number infinite with these two qualities, form and greatness; and that by a chance of adventure, without constraint of any nature, heaven and earth of them were composed. Hipparchus Metapontine, and Heraclitus the Ephesian said, that fire was the unick beginning, because it is the subtle maintainer and sustainer of all bodies, and whereof at first, the heavens were made. And because it is a brightness that moveth all things by his light, they teach, that in abasing itself it was mixed with all things, in such sort, that all things were thereof engendered by the means of discord and love. Empedocles for fear of failing, said, that all the four elements had been the only beginning: but that the earth was the matter and first subject of all, containing the forms and figures of things; which neither the water, air, nor fire could do. The Poets, following his opinion, attributed the original of things to etherian jupiter, terrene Pluto, aërian juno, and to Mestis the beginning of the water, who (they said) nourished with her tears the rivers of the earth. Pythagoras' mounting higher, than many deem, esteemed that numbers, and their subject (that is, the measures and apt proportions, called harmonies and consonancies) were the original of things; not those numbers, which merchants use, but the formal and natural, the knowledge of which lies only hidden in such, as have learned Philosophy and Theology by numbers. Almeon followeth Pythagoras, saying that the unity was the effective beginning, but the two, or binary, not finite, was the subject, and material beginning of all multitude. Epicurus in his Philosophy pursuing the steps of Democritus, teacheth the beginnings of things to be corporal, , not created, perceived by understanding only, eternal, that could not be corrupted, nor destroyed, nor changed in any sort. To which prime causes, beside the form and greatness which his master assigned them, he also attributeth weight. Socrates and Plato set three principals, God, the matter, and the Idea. Aristotle affirmed for the first, Entelechie, or the kind, the matter, and privation; although he had otherwhere taught the equivocations, as is privation, not to be numbered among the principles. Zenon appointeth for the first, God, and the matter; so that he is the active, and it the passive, & the four element's means between. But on this point we may note, that amongst all those, which have taught that the matter was the principal subject, we have one alone, who telleth us, whether it hath been created by the blessed God, or whether this nature pliable, and deprived of all beauty together with God hath made the world: or else if, void of all fashion, it hath been coeternal wife and companion of Demogorgon, father of the Gods (as Poets feign) or if like a Pallas, it hath been borne of jupiters' brain. Certainly our mind can find no repose, when we find a nature deprived of all power and all form, without the maker and creator thereof. Now who, or what he hath been, we have none of these Philosophers, that can relate unto us. Very well see we that they agree very ill together, in the doctrine of the principles and foundations of the world; which doubtless happened unto them, because they did stray very far off from the unity, master of all verity, in whom they should all have met, and yet every one went a several way, following the inventions of their natural speculations, temerariously presuming by their own proper powers to manifest that, which God would rather have kept close, and hidden; to wit, the nature of celestial things. And thence cometh it that their teachings founded on the confused multitude, were dissolved and vanished, after (I say) that they were so severed from the unity, which giveth to all essences the power to be, and harmoniously to accord.  

How all those that have had the true knowledge of God do agree in the doctrine of one only original of the univers.  But they, who confess one God creator of all things, and acknowledge him for the true source and fountain, from which all the waters of eternal sapience do flow, all united in profession of piety, religion and doctrine, Hebrews, Chaldees, Greeks' and Latins, do all together give praise to this God alone, father of the vniuers, planting the foundations of this mundaine habitation with an harmonious concord. For Moses, job, David, Solomon, Esay, and all the other prophets, Evangelists, Apostles and disciples of jesus Christ, and all those whom he hath made worthy to entreat of divine mysteries: all with one voice do teach us, one only and prime cause of all forms, and that alone, to be the maker of the matter; and moderatresse of all nature. To which doctrine agree all the ancient, and modern doctors of the Christian church, having the rule of holy letters so fixed and bounded, that they do not cross themselves in any point, because they have settled the foundations of all things in the only and true author of all wisdom. And upon the same principles innumerable persons of great erudition, and laudable life, diversly dispersed into contrary climates, according to the course of times and different languages, have enterprised divers works of a divine consonancy, and all to one end, to cause acknowledgement of God, creator of heaven and earth. Which could in no wise have been done, if all these excellent men had not been illuminated with lemma self-same divine understanding (as the Platonists call it) or with lemma self-same holy spirit (as our doctors teach) which maketh all such as dwell in the house of God to be of one mind, and endueth all of them with one heart, and one soul, and therefore also all the ancient Prophets, & blessed ambassadors of jesus Christ, being replenished with this spirit, despising the vain babble of Philosopher's schools and all contentious disputations, have proposed their teachings, with such and so great constancy, though they had to deal with princes, and people learned and unlearned, that they have confirmed them for truth, by sanctity and splendour of life, and by many miracles, yea with their own blood. And our doctors (imitating this doctrine) lightened and illustrated with the same spirit, have acknowledged God the only, and very beginning of all things, the free Creator and supreme fountain from whom all verity, and virtue floweth. Amongst which doctors, four Greeks' and four Latins shall sing in the little choir of God like the bases, and fundaments of our Theology, according with the four disciples of our Lord, who delivered the evangelical elements in Canticles sweetly distinguished, and yet in agreeable consonancy. 
Of the most celebrated doctors of the church Greekes and Latins.  For Saint Hierome and Saint Chrysostome shall unloose the knotty heads of the holy letters: the one and the other Gregory, to wit the Roman and Nazianzene, shall pursue the divine sense, closed and covered under the bark of the letter. Damascenus, with Saint Ambrose shall remain in the grave sentences, and allegorical sense. And Saint Augustine with Basil shall mount up in the anagogical song, to resound the supreme accents of the celestial harmony. And for the other celebrated persons, who preceded these men till the time of Saint Hierome, he in the book of excellent men numbereth an hundredth thirty seven, who were known by their writings. To whom Gennade minister of Marseilles, addeth ninety and one, who have been followed of many others till the time of Peter the Lombard: who emulating Damascene in reducing and distinguishing into four volumes the Theological doctrine, hath given fair matter for posterity to dispute upon. And since then have increased so many others of divers professions, nations, and languages consenting with an admirable concord in confession of one father, author and principle (without any means) of this universe, that this point leaveth no doubt, but constraineth every one to acknowledge that all of them have been illuminated, and taught by the sovereign doctor and supreme brightness, from which all truth and light doth issue. For likewise he alone the eternal God containeth the source of verity unable to be emptied, out of which it behoveth us to exhaust so many and often times, as we pretend to give true instructions, and agreeable to the mysteries of his omnipotency; because there is no knowledge of the separated substances, of the secrets of nature, and of God the author thereof, which hath not been divinely revealed. For divine things are not touched with our hands: and the worldly fly from our senses every moment. From whence it cometh, that that which Philosophers call wisdom and certain science, whether concerning celestial, or natural things, is nothing else but error, or at least, a thick obscurity. But we know so much, as the pure, bright and clear understanding, placed in the point of man's soul, doth behold, by means of supernatural light in the mirror of eternity, wherein we contemplate God, the father, and creator of this universe. And when the Philosophers shall confess him such, as nature teacheth, religion persuadeth, and reason proveth him, then may they concur with the truth, in that which they declare of the elements of the world, fire, air, water, and earth, and of the nature of things, as hereafter we must discourse. But first we will begin to enter into some consideration of the precious treasures and learned instructions, wherewith the sacred words of Moses (by us heretofore heard) concerning the creation are fruitfully replenished, & namely in the space of the six days, which he describeth for perfection of this great humane building: as I refer to you (ACHITOB) to give us to understand.   

Of the space of the six days mentioned in the history of the creation of the world. Chap. 12.  ACHITOB. 
IF we hold for certain and undoubted, the fabrication of the vniuers, as we have in all our precedent discourse sufficiently proved: then must we confess that it is new and made in time, according as holy writ teacheth us, and all Mathematicians confirm, when by the Genesis of the world they prognosticate the events that should succeed. We have already made mention of the time, since which, we hold the creation thereof: now must we consider the space of days which are mentioned by Moses in recitation of this Masterpiece of work of the Almighty, wherein the prophet hath concealed a mystery of high, and difficult understanding. For as Saint Augustine saith, 
Lib. 2. de cluit. Dei. cap. 6.  The six days wherein God performed his works, and the seventh wherein he ceased; in what sort and manner they are, is very difficult, or rather impossible for us to think, much more to express. For the days which we have now, have their evening and morning, the setting and rising of the sun: and the three first days whereof Moses speaketh, passed without the sun, which was created the fourth day. Hereof therefore grow profound and deep questions, and principally this, [Whether all things have been created together, or in the space of divers days? 
In the same book chap. 9 ] It seemeth that Saint Augustine made no doubt that all was not created in a moment: seeing he saith (speaking of the creation of the Angels, made the first day) that the second day, nor the third, nor all the rest, were any other than the first day: but that the same one was repeated, to make up the number of six or seven, for the works of God, and his repose. 
In the same book chap. 31.  In another place he speaketh thus, [In the seventh day, that is, the same day repeated seven times.] There have been also divers ancient doctors that have taught the like, satisfying themselves with this text of the Wiseman, saying, [He that liveth for ever, 
Eccles. 18. Whether all things were created together, or in divers da●es.  made all things together.] They also showed these reasons, [All power finite and limited hath need of time to work in, but not the infinite, as that of the sovereign creator: and forasmuch, as by an intelligible and eternal word (which Saint Basil interpreteth, the moment of the will of God) all things had their beginning; there is no reason, why there should be any delay for the creation of the light after the darkness, which was upon the deep (as the prophet declareth) and whereof the evening and morning of the first day were made: or else of the heaven till the second day: 
Genes. 1.  the budding forth of the earth, till the third: the production of the sun, moon, and stars, till the fourth: the gathering together of the waters, till the fift: and to the sixth the forming of man.] For these reasons (I say) many great personages would conclude that heaven and earth, and all things therein contained, were created at one instant, charging those which thought otherwise, to do great wrong to the Almighty and sovereign creator (to whom all things are of eternity presented) to suppose that he should operate by tract of time, and succession of days: he (I say) to whom eternity is both the measure, and possession together. They allege also, that the prophet repeating the creation which he seemed to have distinguished by days, said thus in the second of Genesis. [These are the generations of the heavens and of the earth, when they were created, in the day that the Lord God made the heavens and the earth; and every plant of the field before it was in the earth, and every herb of the field, before it grew:] Whereby (they say) doth evidently appear that all things were created together. And for that the principal members of this mundane body, are said to have been ordained and engendered separately, that that must be understood to have been so expounded, according to the order, through which man (for whom all things have been made) is very properly induced as the last work of God: according to the common saying of the Peripatetics, 
How the distinction of God's works must be understood.  [That that which is the first in intention, is the last in execution: but the means between keeping a like order, do succeed from the first till the last.] By such reason therefore the division of days mentioned in Genesis must be referred, not to the time, but to the order, which is to be considered in the producement of things created. Thus much for their opinions. But others contend to the contrary, and maintain that God hath distinguished the creation of the world by certain degrees and course of days, according as Moses describeth them, to keep us the more attentive, and to constrain us to abide in the consideration of his works. For it is most certain that we pass lightly over the infinite glory of God, which shineth unto us here below; and the vanity of our understanding doth willingly carry us away. To correct which vice, his divine bounty would temper his works to our capacity. And they which hold this opinion have noted, how the text before cited out of Ecclesiasticus, wherein this word (together) is read, is not properly so in the Greek copy: but the Greek word signifieth (likewise) or (in common,) and hath relation not to the time, but to the universalnes and community of creatures. Now to reconcile these divers opinions, me thinketh we may say, that for the matter, and rich seed of all the beauties and richesses' of the vniuers, it hath been created of God all in one moment; but that afterward he gave form to it, taking out of them the works, which he did in the six days. For thus the prophet speaketh, 
Genes. 1. v. 1.2.  [God in the beginning created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void, and darkness was upon the deep, and the spirit of God moved upon the waters.] Behold then the matter of this All, which had his being all at once: the chaos, the embryo, created of nothing, which was to take form, figure, place and abiding according to the order and disposition of all his parts, and which in the mean while was sustained by the secret power of God. Afterward when Moses addeth, [Then God said, Let there be light, 
Vers. 3.4.5.  and there was light. And God saw the light that it was good; and God separated the light from the darkness: and God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. So the evening & the morning were the first day.] In this (I say) and in all the rest which ensueth, concerning the works of God in the five other days, is showed unto us the form that God gave to the matter in the space of them: creating and forming all creatures celestial and terrestrial contained in the whole universe. See then how we may resolve this question, [whether all things were created together, or in divers days] and thus we may reconcile their sundry opinions.  
Let us farther note, 
S. August. de civit. Dei lib. 11. ca 7.  how Saint Augustine accustomed to mount (as we have said) with the wings of contemplation unto the Anagogical sense, discoursing upon this point, concerning the light, which was said to have been created the first day, with evening and mormng, three days before the sun; confesseth freely, that it is farre-remote from our sense, what light this is, and by what alternate motion, the evening and morning were made: and he useth this disjunctive question [whether it were some corporal light (that is, some lightsome body) in the highest parts of the world far from our sight: or else a light without body, in some place, whereat the sun was shortly after kindled: or else by the name of light, 
Gal. 4.  was signified the holy city of Angels and blessed spirits, whereof the Apostle saith, Jerusalem which is above, is the eternal mother of us all in the heavens.] Therefore in another place also this great doctor of the church referreth the evening and morning, to the science and knowledge of angelical thoughts; calling it morning, when by the view of things created, known in themselves (where there is darkness, and most deep night) these blessed spirits advance themselves in the love of God. And if loving and contemplating him, they acknowledge all things in him (which knowledge is much more certain, then if one should view them indirectly) then is it day. But it is evening, when the angel turneth himself from God to things created, regarding them not in him, but in themselves. And yet this evening cometh not to night, because these angelical thoughts never prefer the works before the workman; neither have them in greater estimation, for so should it be most profound night. Behold then, how deeply Saint Augustine doth discourse in this place concerning the evening and morning. But for the place before-cited concerning the point of the light, he referreth the same terms, evening and morning, to the condition of our soul. For he saith, that that, which it can know and understand in comparison of the knowledge of God, is like an evening, and that yet when it is bend to praise and love the creator, then doth it return to morning. And for the distinct days, concerning the works of God, he applieth them likewise to the orderly and perfect knowledge of things produced: 
The distinction of the days inferred to the acknowledgement of the works of God.  saying thus, [When the mind stayeth in the knowledge of itself, then is there one day: when in the acknowledgement of the firmament, which betwixt the water beneath and above, is called the heaven; then is the second day: if concerning the earth, the sea, and all things fructifying, which keep themselves in the roots of the earth; there is the third day: and when it stayeth in the acknowledgement of the lights, both the greater and lesser, and of the stars; there is the fourth day: if of the creatures which live in the waters; there is the fift day: if of terrene things, and man himself; there is the sixth day.] And thus doth this good father travel to discover the great mysteries closed & concealed under the covert of Moses words, which in the relation of his history he doth most undoubtedly apply to the capacity of the rude and common people, with whom he had to deal, delivering to the wise and more learned enough wherewith to satisfy their minds. But without farther disputing about this present matter, we may note, that in the creation of the light, wherewith the world was to be adorned, was the beginning of form given to the matter of the world, and of the distinction of creatures. Yea in that the light did precede the sun & moon, which were created but the fourth day; God would thereby testify, that in his only hand light is resident, and that he can confer it upon us without any other means. For we are so inclined, as nothing more, to alligate the power of God to those instruments and organs, wherewith he serveth himself; because that for as much as the sun & moon do minister light unto us, we will willingly assign to them, according to our fantasy, such virtue, that if the world were deprived of them, we might hope of nothing but darkness. Wherefore the Lord in this order of the creation causeth us to see the contrary, and how it is in him, and by him, that the light subsisteth. Now of you (ASER) we may hear of some excellent mysteries concealed under the number of the days of this mundaine fabrication.   

Of the mysteries hidden under the number of six in the creation of the vniuers: and of the seventh day of rest. Chapter 13.  ASER. 
THat all things consisted in numbers, and that there was need of the knowledge of them to conceive the sacred mysteries of God and nature; Pythagoras, Plato and all other Academics have laboriously taught. But they have spoken so superstitiously and so obscurely concerning the mysteries in these numbers, that it seemed, they would even conceal them from those, who were devoted to the study of their doctrine. Plato speaketh thus in his Epinomide, [If we take away number from the nature of men, we leave them no whit prudent, nor capable of science: 
Of the profit and use of numbers.  for the mind can comprehend nothing without reason, and none can render a reason for any thing, that is ignorant of number. The arts likewise, this set apart, would altogether perish.] He assureth us also, that number, (to wit the unity which is God) is cause of all good, but of none ill. And he calleth man's soul a number, and reasonable measure, by which we measure all things, which may be understood and put in practice by us, to the end that in our works we may eschew all error, folly and deformity. Now not only the Philosophers, but also many great personages, Christians, both Greeks', and Latins do testify unto us by their writings, that there be many mysteries in numbers: Amongst whom Saint Augustine speaketh thus, 
Lib. 11. de ciu●●. Dei cha. 30.  [The reason of numbers is not to be despised of us, which how much it is to be esteemed in many texts of Scripture is apparent to those, which mark it diligently. And it hath not been spoken in vain to the praise of God: [Thou hast ordered all things in number, 
Wisdom 11.  weight and measure] Now hereupon we must note, that the number, weight & measure, whereby all things have been numbered, poised and measured, subsist not properly in the things created; no more than the measure by which the cloth is parted into else; or the weights, wherewith every thing is weighed: or the number, by which all things are counted, do consist within the things measured, poised, or numbered: but are doubtless without them. So then we contemplate the number, weight and measure, by which God hath disposed all things, 
In God is the member, weight and measure.  out of the creatures. And forasmuch as there is nothing, besides all things produced, but God, it is necessary, that in him should consist their number, weight and measure. In him than is the weight without weight, for by it the great worker is not poised, but remaineth stable, giving all things the power to be moved, and at last to repose themselves. And in truth, this frame of the whole world duly proportioned, and balanced by weight, could not sustain itself, if it were not poised by the creator and governor thereof; who likewise hath the measure, by which he moderateth and disposeth all that is contained therein, in well ordered justice, according to the state and proper end of every of his works. And in him also are the numbers without number, because that all things which are in him, are the same only God. And as he is the true unity, he containeth in himself all number, giving all things the power to be numbered. For all multitude ariseth from one, and nothing can be one, making with any others a multitude, if by the participation of the highest one it doth not obtain the state of unity. And to it also all things created (imitating the course of numbers, as the true pattern doth the original, and the end of God's works) endeavour to return, in such sort as they first proceeded.  
We need not doubt then, but that the consideration of numbers doth therewith import much doctrine. Wherefore particularly respecting the distinction of the works of the universe in six days (which is the subject of our discourse) we will note how many have acknowledged the number of six to be full of deep mysteries. 
The number of six full of deep mysteries.  First therefore Mathematicians teach, that six is the first perfect number, because it is compounded of certain parts perfectly added together, as of one, two and three: for which cause it is called of the Pythagorians (Gammon) or the Marrying number, because all the parts thereof set aside do make it up. Moreover some parts of it multiplied together, to produce it: as six times one, three times two, two times three. In this consisteth the perfection of the number, which is accomplished by all his parts: and but few such have been found out by Arithmeticians. For within the number of an hundred they have observed but that of twenty eight, to which they have attributed such propriety: because it consisteth of fourteen, seven, four, two, and one: as within the number of ten, there is but that of six which is accomplished by all his parts. Saint Hierom entreating of this number where he writeth upon Ezechiel, saith, that it containeth the sacrament of creatures. And in truth there could not be invented any number more proper for the making of the world, than this of six, which consisteth of a double proportion that it doth next contain in itself: (to wit) of four with two, which numbers added together make six: which can hardly be found in other numbers, but such as are of the nature of six: as the double, triple, quadruple, or square thereof, and such like. So then six resulteth of that double proportion which makes the diapason in Music, which is the perfectest and most entire harmony of all the concord's. For which it seemeth that Pythagoras would apply it to Nativities and to Marriages, and then it doth consequently very properly fit the Creation of the world, wherein were celebrated the true nuptials, and conjunctions of all things. Likewise six, the first perfect number cannot but aptly agree to God, the sovereign and most perfect creator, or to his work, wherein there is no defect: 
Genes. 2.  And therefore when he had finished and accomplished his works in six days, Moses saith, [Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them.] But if we will farther proceed in the consideration of this number of six: we shall see how by the triangled or threesquare figure thereof, it doth properly accord with the creation of the world. For the base or foundation is the number of three, the point a unity, and the number of two is the mean between both, as appeareth in this figure  pyramid of balls Now every work proceedeth from the three persons in the Godhead to the unity, from which the outward works (performed in time) are unseparable: they tend also to an end, to which all things address themselves: and the passage to proceed thither, is the number of two, which we may properly attribute to the matter first created by God, to form thereof all his works. For the first beginning of the production and order of creatures was the matter, which in respect of number representeth the nature of the binary, and seemeth to be reduced to the unity, by the form, which beareth the shape of the ternary: so that on every side of the premised figure of the number of six, the ternary tendeth to the unity by the binary. And by this consideration we may make way to the most high contemplation of the number of seven, 
Of the number of seven and his excellency.  attributed to the rest of the Lord. For we make no doubt, that when we shall be all reduced to the unity, as we took our original from it, then shall the rest of the sabbaoth ensue, that is figured by the seventh day; wherein it is said that God ceased from his works: and which shutteth up and closeth the course and circle of all days. Now that this number of seven hath been much reverenced by men of ancient times, we have many witnesses. For the jews because of the sabbaoth (as Saint Hierome writeth upon Esaie) did honour it much. And Aulus Gellius and Macrobius, upon the dream of Scipio, do show great mysteries out of this number of seven, which they call full and perfect, and attribute great power to it, in the sea, and amongst men. And the Pythagorians (as saith Chalcidius) commended it for the best, most natural, and most sufficient number. Moreover it is composed of three, which is the first uneeven number, that cannot be divided by any numbers (for unity is no number, though it giveth all numbers the power to be numbered) and of four, which is a full even number, & the first double number of all others. For this cause the number of seven is oftentimes used for universal & general, and to signify perfection. 
Prover. 24.  As it is written [The just shall fall seven times a day, and shall rise again] that is, how often, or how many times soever he falleth, 
Psalm. 119.  he shall not perish. Again [I will praise thee seven times a day] which in an other place is thus spoken [His praise is ever in my mouth. 
Psalm. 34. ] And we may find many places in holy Scriptures, wherein the number of seven hath customably been used for the universalnes of any thing whatsoever, and to demonstrate a perfection. And so doth saint john in the Apocalyps, 
●poc. 1.  writing to the seven churches, and speaking of the seven spirits, which are before the throne of God. For it is certain, that he compriseth there all the universal church, and proposeth God in his Majesty, accompanied with innumerable blessed angels. But among all the great mysteries, which the ancients have acknowledged to be concealed in the seventh day, by which the rest of the Lord is recommended after his work perfected and finished, this is the most notable, by which they teach us, 
●he true signi●●tion of the sabbaoth day.  that this Sabbaoth day signifieth the repose of those, which rest in the Lord, even as the joy of the house betokeneth the joy of those which rejoice therein, although that not the house itself, but something else do make them joyful: and like as (the effect being signified by the efficient cause) an epistle is called joyful, to declare the pleasure of those, whom it delighteth by reading thereof. Likewise when the Scripture recounteth, that God rested, we must not take it childishly, as if he (who by an intelligible and eternal word spoke, and it was made) had travailed in his work: but understanding by this manner of speech, that God ceased from all work, because he no more created any new kinds of creatures; we may conveniently refer his rest, to the rest of those, whom he himself causeth to remain in eternal rest, after that he hath first drawn them to himself by faith in this life. Whereas also the prophet having made mention in each of the six precedent days of the creation, of evening and morning, doth mention no such matter of the seventh day: it seemeth he would signify, that this Sabbaoth day was ordained to represent the great and last day of everlasting rest, wherein there should be no more any such distinction of evening and morning, nor of day and night, as now is: but altogether light, by which we shall contemplate God face to face in true and perfect felicity, such as eye hath never seen, ear never heard, nor ever hath entered into the heart of man. Which we must doubtless believe was figured to the jews by the rest of the Sabbaoth commanded in the law: for these names (Rest, and Sabbaoth) in the Hebrew tongue full of mysteries, signify both one thing. In which matter we may farther note, how the sacred history declareth, that man was created the sixth day, which was the ●euen of the Lords rest; for this agreeth well to the principal thing, which the Lord intendeth in his law: to wit, to admonish man, that he was not placed in the world; but to return at length to him, who set him there: and to seek his rest in him. Thus have we sufficiently spoken of the subject, which we first entreated of: for else if we should fully prosecute the mysteries included in the history of the creation of the world, we should have matter enough to make up a very great volume. We will therefore proceed to the particular consideration of the famous works contained in the glorious frame of the world. And first we will speak of the division thereof, that we may afterward discourse with more ease concerning the parts thereof. Then (AMANA) let us hear you concerning this point.   

Of the division of the universal world. Chap. 14.  AMANA. 
THe learned and venerable antiquity figureth, and maketh the universal world (to be) one, and threefold, as signifying and representing (though very far off and much behind) the omnipotent, triple-one, most wise, and most good worker, by whom it hath been created, 
Euseb. lib. 11. de prepar. Euangel. Plate in. Phedro. Of the three worlds.  form and ordained. For there is the uppermost world of all, which Divines name, the Angelical, and philosophers call the intellectual world: which (as Plato saith) was never yet sufficiently praised. Then is there the celestial world, or that of the spheres, which succeed and is next the first: and the third and last is the elementary world which we inhabit, under the concavity of the moon. Now as this is the world of darkness, so is the Angelical world the world of light, and the world betwixt both is tempered with light and darkness. The elementary world is designed to us by the flowing waters, and instable substance: the Angelical by fire, because of the shining of the light, and elevation of the place: and the heaven of mean nature is called of the Hebrues by a name signifying the same to be composed of water and fire. In this lowe-world life and death strive for the mastery, by a kind of vicissitude, change and rechange all things: but in the highest is eternal life and permanent operation: and in that of the spheres, is certain assurance of life, but there is changing of works and of places. The elementary is built of the perishing substance of bodies: the intellectual of a nature more divine and excellent: and the mean heaven is compounded of bodies (but incorruptible) and of a disposition convenient for the nature thereof. The third is moved by the second, and the second is governed by the first: and this remaineth stable in his work fit for his own nature, under the holy of holies, the Lord-God almighty, which was, which is, and which is to come. And it seemeth that our great prophet, of whom we have learned the creation of heaven and earth, 
Exod. 25. The figure of the three worlds in the tabernacle o● Moses.  hath evidently described these three worlds in the structure of his marvelous tabernacle. For he divideth it into three parts, whereof each doth lively represent each world: so that the first being not covered with any roof or covering, was open and exposed to rain, snows, winds, sun, heat and cold: and (which hath more reference to our elementary world) in this former part haunted not only men both clean and polluted, temporal and ecclesiastical, but also beasts of all sorts: and there was likewise, because of the ordinary sacrifices and offerings, a perpetual exchange of life and death. The two other parts of the tabernacle were closed on every side; and defended from all outward injury: even as neither the celestial nor supercelestial world can receive damage. Moreover these two were honoured with the title of holy: yet so, that the most secret was named the holy of holies, and the other simply the holy or sacred. So likewise the spherical world is holy, because that it persevering in the order, which was appointed it by the sovereign creator, hath in it no fault or crime: but the Angelical is even the most holy and most divine, wherein the blessed souls incessantly resound this song. [Thou art worthy, 
Apocal. 4.  O Lord, to receive honour, and glory, and power: for thou hast created all things; and for thy wills sake they are and have been created.] But moreover, if we consider how the last part of the tabernacle was common to men and to beasts: how the second all shining with the splendour of the gold, was lighted with the candlestick divided into seven lamps (which, as many Greek, Latin and Hebrew interpreters will have, do signify the seven planets;) and how in the third the most holy were the winged Cherubins: should we not say that these three parts manifest unto our sight three worlds? To wit, this which men and all kind of creatures frequent: the celestial where the planets shine, and give light: and the supercelestial which is the dwelling and abode of the blessed Angels, the way to which hath been opened by the cross, and bloodshed of our Saviour jesus Christ, true God and true man, as the vail of the temple, by which the holy of holies, being a type of the angelical world, was separated from the other parts thereof, renting and tearing at the death of our Saviour, was a certain sacrament to us? 
Matth. 27. Luke. 23. Psal. 18. Genes. 3.  For thereby we had assurance, that from thenceforth was free access granted man to the kingdom of God (of God, I say, who flieth above the cherubins) through the very same entrance, that from the beginning for the since of the first man, had been barred up by the laws of justice.  
Thus have we many notable things concerning the division of the universal world, 
Why the triple is called one.  which we may also call [One,] not only because the three worlds do proceed of one only and self cause, and tend to the like end; or else because being duly tempered by numbers, they are joined together by an harmonious accord and affinity of nature, and by ordinary succession of degrees: but also because that that which is in all the three is likewise comprised in one of them, and that there is not one, wherein all things, which are in the other three, do not remain. It is most certain, that that which remaineth in this low world, is in the uppermost of far better stuff: and that which is in those above, is seen also in this of far worse condition, and as it were of a bastard and sophistical nature. For here heat is an elementary quality, in heaven it is an heating virtue; and in the Angelical thoughts, an Idea and exemplary form. Or to show this more clearly; we have with us in this base world the fire, which is an element: the sun in heaven is a fire: in the supercelestial region the seraphic, or burning intellect is another fire. But let us note how much they differ: The element burneth; the celestial fire quickeneth, & the supercelestial is embraced by love. There is also here below water; and so there is another water above being motresse and mistress of this below, which is the moon, in the first circle of heaven; but the cherubin, or clear-sighted spiritual substances, are the waters that flow above the heaven. And as touching the disagreeable condition among these three kinds of waters; the elementary humour quencheth vital heat: that of heaven nourisheth it: and the supercelestial hath an intellectual apprehension of it. Furthermore in the first world, God the first unity ruleth over the nine hierarchies of Angels; like so many spheres, and remaining immovable moveth them all unto him: In the celestial and mean world the imperial heaven commandeth likewise, as a captain doth his bands, the nine celestial spheres, in such sort, that though they be moved by continual agitation, yet it remaineth stable by divine power. So likewise is there in the elementary world, after the first matter being the foundation thereof nine spheres, or circular revolutions of corruptible forms: that is, three of things inanimate, which first are the elements, than their compounds, and thirdly the means between these two, truly mixed and compounded, but unperfectly: and such are the impressions which appear in the air. Then are there three revolutions of vegetable nature, distinguished likewise into three kinds, as of herbs, shrubs and wood of old growth. And lastly three other of the sensitive soul, which are either imperfect (as the Zoophyta) or to speak English [creatures of a middle condition between things sensitive and plants:] or very perfect; but such as are within the bounds of the fantasy not reasonable: and in the third place that which is found excellent in beasts, being capable of man's teaching; a mean thing between man and beast, as the Zoophyta partaketh of the plant and animal. But it may be we have said more concerning these things than is requisite for our purpose: I will only therefore add, that the mutual vicinity and communication of the worlds, which we have here described, is also declared in holy writ. For it is written in the Psalms, [In wisdom he made the heavens. 
Psal. 136. 2. Cor. 12. ] And Saint Paul saith of himself, that he was ravished into the third heaven, which afterwards he calleth Paradise. 
Psal. 103. & 104.  We read also that the Angels of God are spirits, and his ministers a flame of burning fire. And thence without doubt it cometh, that oftentimes to divine natures are attributed both celestial and terrestrial surnames: when as sometimes they are figured by stars: 
Apocal. 2. Ezech. 1.3. Apocal. 2. Apocal. 21.  sometimes by wheels and beasts, and sometimes by elements: as we sometimes also appropriate divine and celestial names to terrestrial natures. For even as the three worlds being girt and buckled with the bands of concord do by reciprocal liberality, interchange their natures; the like do they also by their appellations. And this is the principle from whence springeth and groweth the discipline of allegorical sense. 
The original of allegorical sense.  For it is certain that the ancient fathers could not conveniently have represented one thing by other figures, but that they had first learned the secret amity and affinity of all nature. Otherwise there could be no reason, why they should represent this thing by this form, and that by that, rather than otherwise. But having the knowledge of the universal world, and of every part thereof, and being inspired with the same spirit, that not only knoweth all things, but did also make all things: they have oftentimes, and very fitly figured the natures of the one world, by that which they knew to be correspondent thereto in the others. Wherefore the same knowledge, and the grace of the same spirit is requisite for those, who would understand, and directly interpret such significations and allegorical meanings. Moreover besides these worlds, which we have also distinguished, there is also another, a fourth, 
Of a fourth world.  wherein may likewise be found all that which subsisteth in the others. And this is (man) who for this cause as our doctors show, is understood in the gospel by the name of every creature, then when jesus Christ commandeth to preach to men the good news, 
Mark. 16.  not to beasts nor angels, being nevertheless enjoined to publish it to every creature. Likewise it is a common use in schools to teach, that man is a little world, and that within him the body is composed of the elements, the reasonable soul is celestial, the vegetable power common to men and plants, the sense common to brute beasts, the reason participated to Angels: and finally the image of God is therein seen & considered. But of him we have sufficiently entreated in the second part of our Academical discourses; wherefore of this great universal world must our ensuing talk be. And as we have divided it into three general parts, so must we particularly discourse of them. First therefore let us say something concerning the Angelical and intellectual world, and of the celestial intelligences or Angels: which (ARAM) shall be the subject of your discourse.   

Of the Angelical, and intellectual world. Chapter 15.  ARAM. 
NOw shall I have great need to say with the kingly prophet (Oh that I had wings like a dove: 
Psal. 55. ) wings, I say, of silver and shining gold, that I might fly up into the supercelestial region, where resteth true rest, true peace and certain tranquillity, which this wretched & worldly corpse cannot yield. Open mine eyes you supermundaine spirits (but rather thou, oh father of them) and I shall contemplate the wonder of your city, wherein God attendeth for those that fear him; that which eye hath never seen, ear never heard, nor any heart worthily thought upon. Well I wots that many call disputations and searching out of the nature, and multitude of angels and their orders, vain questions, and fit for idle imaginations; but surely they are secrets, which Saint Paul himself who had been rapt up above the third heaven, hath not only taught, but hath also protested, that he had there heard many things, 
● Cor. 12.  which were not lawful for him to reveal. And I am likewise of belief that the full revelation of the angelical, and intellectual world is deferred till the last day: yet will we here speak soberly thereof, and as briefly as we can, according to that which divines have written, without any ways offending piety, or christian religion.  
When the holy Scripture speaketh of the creation of the world, it is not evidently expressed in what order, and how the angels were created. 
Genes. 2. That the angels are God his creatures.  But forasmuch as it is said that God created heaven and all things therein contained, it is most certain, that therein are comprised the spirits celestial, as well those that through obedience have stood in their integrity, as those, who rebelling against God have been cast out unto destruction. Neither is it hereto repugnant that Moses reciting the Genesis or creation of the world, maketh no express mention thereof. For we see how that in silence passing over all things which surmount our capacity; or else covering them under the mystical sense of his words, for those whom God would fully illuminate with the brightness of his holy spirit; he only entreateth of those, which we behold with our eyes, yea and that too in familiar and vulgar sort, conforming himself to the rudeness of the people, with whom he had to deal. And for this cause hath the opinion of sundry great personages, and namely of Saint Augustine been, 
Lib 2. de civit Dei cha. 9 & 1●.  that the angels have been signified either by the name of heaven, there where it is said [In the beginning God made heaven and earth] or else by the name of the light, which he saith was created the first day. But howsoever; this is doubtless, that the angels are the work of God. For the holy Scripture doth testify it in infinite places, with a most clear voice: & namely in the song of the three children which were in the furnace, 
Dan. 3.  who having said (Bless the Lord all his works) in pursuit of the narration of them, the angels are also named. And the prophet saith, [You creatures of the heavens praise the Lord, you which are in the high places praise him. All his angels, 
Psal. 148.  and all his armies praise him.] Sith also they are the ministers of God appointed to do that, which he commandeth them (as the apostle to the Hebrews saith) there is no doubt but they are his creatures. Moreover the holy Scriptures teach us, that they are always watching for our safety: that they are always ready to defend us: that they direct our ways, and have care of us in all things. 
Psal. 34. Genes. 24.  And therefore Abraham promised his servant that the angel of God should be his guide on the way. And so often and so many times as God would deliver the people of Israel out of the hands of their enemies, 
judg. 2.6. &. 13.  he was served by his angels to perform this deed: 
2. King. 19 Isay 37.  as we read that the angel of the Lord slew in one night an hundred fourscore and five thousand men in the camp of the Assyrians, to deliver jerusalem from siege. But to stand no longer in so clear a matter; 
Matth. 4. Luk. 22. Matth. 28. Luk. 24. Acts. 1.  I will only add this, that is said, that the angels ministered to jesus Christ after he was tempted in the desert: and that they assisted him in his anguish, at the time of his passion; and that they published his resurrection and his glorious coming.  

Of the number order, names and offices of the angels. Dan. 7.  But to determine of the number and orders of Angels were (me thinketh) above all human power. For Daniel speaking of the Majesty of the throne of God, saith, [Thousand thousands (of Angels) ministered unto him, and ten thousand thousands stood before him. 
Psal. 68 Apocal. 5. ] And David singeth [the chariots of God are twenty thousand thousand Angels.] Saint john also maketh mention of ten thousand times ten thousand, and a thousand thousand that give glory to God: 
Matth. 26.  and jesus Christ himself witnesseth that there are many legions. In brief all the Scripture reporteth of an infinite number of Angels serving God, whom he employeth in the protection of his elect, and by whom he bestoweth his benefits upon men, and doth his other works. And for their orders although they be not noted in express text of Scripture; yet the different names whereby they are described have afforded matter subject to Saint Denis in his celestial Hierarchy, to jamblicus in his book of Mysteries, & to many other modern divines to set down nine orders and degrees of Angels: to wit: The Seraphins, Cherubins, Thrones, Dominations, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels and Angels: all which are celestial spirits, to whom the Scripture attributeth such and the like names, according to the ministry wherein God commandeth them to serve, so applying them to our infirmity. For they are called Angels, 
Ephes. 1. Col. 1.  because God maketh them his messengers to man: and virtues, because that by them God declareth the power of his hand: and Principalities, Dominations, Powers, Signiories; because that by them God exerciseth his empire throughout all the world: and his armies, 
Luk. 2. Apocal. 19  because as soldiers are about their Prince and captain; so are they present before God, to honour his Majesty and attend his good pleasure, to employ themselves about all things that he gaveth them in charge; yea sometimes they are named Gods, because that by their ministery, they do as it were in a mirror represent unto us the image of God. And we see that S. 
Dan. 12. 1. Thes. 4. Dan 10. &. 12.  Michael is called in Daniel the great Prince or captain: and Archangel in S. jude. And Saint Paul saith, that it shall be an Archangel, who shall summon the world with a trumpet unto judgement. Daniel also declareth that the Angel of the Persians fought, and also the Angel of the Greeks' against their enemies: as if he would show, that God hath sometimes appointed his Angels to be governors of countries and provinces. 
Matth. 18.  And jesus Christ telling how the Angels of little infants do always behold the face of his father, declareth thereby that there are certain Angels who have them in guard. Saint Peter also being miraculously come forth of prison, 
Acts. 12.  and knocking at the house wherein the faithful were assembled, they that could not think that it was he, said that it was his angel. Yet for all these considerations, I hold it a thing of too difficult enterprise for mortal man to constitute and appoint, which are the degrees of honour among the Angels, and particularly to distinguish one from another by any name or title, and to assign to every one his place, his abode and office. We will therefore leave these things for curious heads to dispute upon. Yet will we hold ourselves ascertained of that, which the holy Scripture doth openly declare unto us, and which may best serve us to our comfort, and for the confirmation of our faith: that is, That the Angels, God's creatures, are disposers and ministers of his beneficence towards us: & that such kind of belief is a certain argument against Atheists, concerning the providence of God. 
Of the blessed estate of the angels.  And for the blessed estate of these celestial spirits, it is certain, that for as much as they have no whit swerved from the light, wherein God created them, they remain in blessedness and felicity: from which they shall never more fall. Now if we demand what this (felicity) is? Without doubt it is the vision and contemplation of the glory and Majesty of God, whose face (as we said even now) they always behold, and to whom they give praise without ceasing; singing with a loud voice this song, as Esay declareth, 
Isay. 6.  [Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts: all the earth is full of his glory.] For there is no good in the reasonable or intellectual creature, through which it may become happy, but God only. Wherefore the cause of the felicity and happiness of the angels, is for that they belong to God, in such sort that their nature liveth in him, is wise by him, rejoiceth everlastingly in so great and ineffable a good, without death, without error, without impediment.  

Against those which deny that there are any angels.  I know well some men be so fantastical, that they make it a doubt whether there be any angels or spirits. The Sadduces in times past held this opinion, that by the word Angel was signified nothing else, but the motion that God inspireth into men, or the power, which he showeth in his works. But there are so many testimonies of Scripture which contradict this madness, and histories both ecclesiastical and profane are so replenished with wonderful acts of invisible spirits, as we daily see come to pass, that it is a wonder how such ignorance could be in former ages, 
Error of some Philosophers.  and yet among many remaineth at this day. There have also been men of great authority, who discoursing according to the reasons of Philosophy, have dared to affirm, that God the first father and author of all things did only produce one intelligence or angel: because, say they, being always of one manner, he cannot by any natural reason produce divers things. For this cause therefore they would limit the powerful production of God, to one only intelligence: which being created of God, had recourse to the first thought, whereof it produced the second intelligence: and knowing itself, it engendered the soul or mover of the first sphere; and this mover knowing also his work, it proceeded to produce another: & so successively the cause being varied in substance and operation, divers effects were produced. Which obscure opinion might have some colour, if the first and almighty creator were restrained to produce but one effect only: too absurd a thing to be imagined in the father and author of the vniuers; seeing that not a particular, but an universal effect is answerable unto him, to wit the world only, and the entire estate of all things, as we have heretofore sufficiently declared. And so it followeth, that this vniuers, like a body entire in itself, and divers in the members thereof, was engendered by one only father and creator, and lives by one only universal life. But we will combat against these Philosophers, with more strong weapons, maintaining against them according to the truth, 
How God came to his work.  that the sovereign maker came to his work without being tied by any natural law, but free and frank in every work, as he pleaseth, being abundantly full of all virtue, and of all manner of bounty and essential good will, proceeded to his outward work: as these things have been declared unto us in our precedent discourse. But this by the way; albeit the maxim of the Peripatetics be, (though false) that the first cause worketh of necessity, and that it is always of one sort, (which is most true;) yet doth it not therefore follow, that it should produce but one effect: seeing that of the sun, which is ever the same, and of the earth, which being stable changeth not, are produced divers effects, without any variety coming to their nature, yea, and without any tilling of the ground. For herbs, flowers and roots of divers kinds do grow therein, and many other essences are therein produced by power of the sun. But if these Philosophers tell me, that divers effects appear in these things, because that other particular causes do work therein together: they have left the proof of this point to their children, to wit, whether this variety proceedeth from divers causes, or else from the same sun, fruitful and full of virtue to engender divers things. Then with how much greater reason may the first, true and eternal son do it, being abundantly full of all fruitfulness, light and life? 
How all things are in God.  For all things were and are in him, not as if they were seated in any local place, but are lodged in his thought, from whence producing them he is called their father and creator. He only free from the laws of nature without any matter presupposed produceth all things; yea and the matter itself altogether full of fertility. But the second or natural cause (as Philosophers speak) requireth the subject and matter created by God, wherewith it worketh. And here doth that take place which the Prince of Peripatetics saith, [That in common acceptation of the soul, it is convenient that it be made of nothing,] and therefore also our Divines affirm that the angels can create no nature at all, and that they are creators of things, no more than gardiner's of fruits. And therefore all those, who have received the light of the truth, confess God alone to be father and author of all things contained in heaven and in earth: whether spiritual or corporal; visible or invisible natures. And let us never think that in so great consonancy of the universe, there are many creators: nor that there is any more than one only king and prince, nor many things that consist of themselves. For so should there be confusion and discordancie in this great world, and so consequently easy dissolution. Thus much have we thought convenient to be known, concerning the Intellectual world, wherein having spoken of the blessed estate of those angels, which are not fallen from God, my mind is, that we say somewhat concerning those who are fallen from their first estate, which we call commonly Devils or evil spirits. We will hear you then (ACHITOB) discourse of them.   

Of devils and evil spirits. Chap. 16.  ACHITOB. 
IF we here discourse somewhat by numbers, we shall make more easy way to that, which we would understand concerning the devils, yea concerning every creature. I say then every number after the unity, attaineth to be a perfect and accomplished number within itself. Now the unity alone totally simple, doth not pass from itself, but therein remaineth in indivisible and solitary simplicity, because it is most fully content with itself, not having need of any thing, being full of his own riches. But every number being by nature a multitude, doth by the benefit of the unity become simple, because it is capable of simplicity. And although every number the more it departeth from the unity, the more it falleth into a great multitude, having in itself more disagreeableness, more parts and composition: yet is there no number how near soever to the unity, being a multitude and made of unities, that is one by nature, 
An excellent theological consideration by numbers.  but by composition. Now if we refer this to divine matters after the manner of Pythagoras and Plato, we shall say thus: God alone, who proceedeth not from any thing, and from whom all things proceed is an entire, most simple and indivisible essence; and which deriveth all that he possesseth from himself: and by what reason he subsisteth, by the same reason he is wise, he is willing, he is good, and he is just. And we cannot imagine any essence, whereof he may consist, but the same being which he is. But all other things are not the same essence, but are through him, and therefore an angel is not this unity; for so should he be God: or else there should be sundry Gods, which may not be imagined. For what should be one, but the unity alone? It resteth then that the angel must be a number, which being so, on the other side it is one in multitude, as every number cometh of the unity by composition, and every number is imperfect, because it is a multitude, that which is perfect being entirely one. So then the angel being a number, that is, a creature, he is not the same being itself, but he is only an essence, to whom the being arriveth by communication, to the end that he may subsist. Neither is he understanding itself, but so he understandeth, as being by a spiritual nature capable of understanding. Those things that betoken imperfection, are incident to the angel, as he is a multitude, or creature. But all that which is perfect and of accomplished form in him, is by reason of the unity, whereof it is composed, and which he receiveth, because that he is conjoined with God (who is the simple unity) from whom all being, all life, and all perfection is derived to the creature. And therefore the philosophers, as also the wise Hebrues ●ll the angels (separated Intelligences:) because, say they, 
Of the separated intelligence  being separated from the most simple understanding, they receive a certain composition in an essence and virtue, which perfecteth them of a Metaphysical and supernatural matter and form. 
Aug. de civit. Dei lib. 11. cap. 10.  For this point also, Saint Augustine teacheth, that there is one only simple good, and therefore immutable, which is God: and that by this good all things have been created good, but not simple, and therefore they are mutable. Which is manifest not only in man, 
cause of the fall of the angels and man.  but even in some part of the angels, as this doctor of the church excellently discourseth in the most part of his work De civitate Dei. And these are those, of whom the scripture teacheth, that they have not remained in the truth: but declining from their first state have overthrown themselves, and have been made instruments of perdition to many.  
But as we heard by our precedent speech, 
john. 2. 2. Peter. 2. jude.  some have been in this error to believe, that the good angels were nothing else, but good inspirations & motions which God gave men; so there have been that thought, that the evil devils were no other, but evil affections, through the suggestion of our flesh. Yea the impiety of our age hath passed farther: For there are many, 
Against those which deny that there be any devils.  which will not believe that there is any God or devil. And it is not long since, that certain talk being moved between a prelate of this kingdom, and certain others (concerning the devil) he blushed not to ask them if they had ever seen any one, who had sold him spectacles, considering he must needs be very old, since (they say) that he came first into the world. Now such contemners of all religion, do evidently show their ignorance and beastliness. For there was never any, I will not say Christian, but Ethnic, nor Pagan, endued with any natural knowledge and faculty of teaching, but hath spoken of devils and evil spirits, and have by many writings left to posterity infinite testimonies concerning their nature and marvelous effects. Yea & the doctrine of the Assyrians, Arabians, Egyptians, and Grecians confirmeth that, which our most divine theology teacheth us, concerning the evil angels chased from the service of God. And amongst others Pherecides the Syrian describeth the fall of the devils, and saith that Ophis which signifieth the devilish serpent, was captain of the rebellious army. Trismeghistus also the glory of the Egyptians hath touched the same fall. And Homer the most excellent Greek Poet, and setter forth of mysteries, singeth in his verses the fall of the first rebel, under the name of Até goddess of injury and wrong. The Theology also of the Arabians in imitation of the Hebrew, confirmeth the same. Yea the devils themselves have oftentimes confessed their own fall: as many writings testify, and they know, who have traveled in the searching out of ancient monuments. Wherefore this matter needeth not long disputing, and it is not our intent to satisfy the curious and fantastical of our age, to whom nothing is pleasant, save new doctrine. 
Creation, and fall of the angels and the cause of them.  But pursuing the Christian truth, we say that since the angels have been created of God, and the devils have been all created angels, there is no doubt, but they are his creatures, but not of the first condition, wherein they were at the beginning. For they were created good like the other angels and like man; but they have made themselves evil by their rebellion, pride and sin (like as our first father fell from his native integrity by imitation of them) so that of angels they have made themselves devils. 
john. 8.  And therefore it is written of them, that they have not persevered in the truth, that is, that they have not for ever stuck to God, who is the only good of every reasonable or intellectual creature, 
Lib. 12. de civit Dei cap. 1.  as Saint Augustine doth learnedly teach: adding moreover the cause of their fall, when he saith, that the creature which may attain to the gift of blessedness, can not do it of itself, because it is created of nothing: but it receiveth this benefit from him, by whom it hath been created. Thereupon is concluded, 
Sweet Christian doctrine to acknowledge all our good of God.  that immutable good is no other thing but the true blessed God: and that yet all things which he hath created are very excellent good, because they proceed from him: but yet they are mutable, because they have been made not of him (that is of his own substance) but of nothing. Because then the devils have been created by God, we must understand, that they have not that malice, which now we say is their natural estate, from their first creation, but forsomuch as they have depraved themselves. For that which is damnable in them, they have gotten it since they turned voluntarily from God. 
john. 8.  And therefore it is said that Satan speaketh of his own when he speaketh a lie; because he abode not in the truth: Whereby it appeareth that he was once in it. And in that he is called the father of lying all excuse is taken from him, so that he cannot impute to God that evil, whereof himself is cause. 
2. Peter. 2. jude.  Wherefore as the devils have declined from their first estate, God hath not spared them, but hath bound them in the deep with chains of darkness, to reserve them to the judgement of the great day, who likewise persevering in their first malice and envy, have always endeavoured & shall continue to the end, to be instruments of perdition unto men. And therefore all that, which the holy scripture teacheth us concerning them, tendeth to this point, that we should stand upon our guards, to resist their temptations, and not to be surprised by their ambushments, arming us to this effect, with all the armour of God, as Saint Paul doth thereto exhort us. 
Ephes. 6.  For he that hath a long time judged them, holds them so with the bridle, that they cannot annoy those which are firm in faith to resist them, nor do any thing, without his will and leave. 
1. Pet. 5.  But he maketh them serve for a time measured and prefixed, for scourges, as it pleaseth him, in the execution of his judgements: giving them much power of error in prodigies and miracles, to abuse those which turn from the light of truth, to follow darkness and embrace lying. And thence spring the idolatries of the Pagans and invocations on devils, which have caused so many evils to lay hold on man. For the purpose of the devils hath always been to make themselves to be served and honoured of men, to the end that being associated with them, they might likewise be a most provoking and effectual cause of the judgement of God.  
And yet how many do we see even at this day, 
Against those that seek after devils.  who make boasts to have at their command such ministers of iniquity, whom they think to disguise when they call them by the name of familiar spirits? I will not stand here to disptue whether there be divers kinds of devils, or not, as many have written: but I believe the word of God, that all of them tend to this purpose, to be hurtful to men. And though some conjure them by the names of God, and so keep them bound and chained (as many brag that they do) yet are they ever watchful, till at length they deceive their masters. I will also believe, that they are not ignorant in aught, which either the reasonable, or intellectual nature can comprehend concerning corporal and temporal things: 
Lib. 2. de civit. Dei cap. 22.  yea (as Saint Augustine saith) by experience of certain signs unknown to us, they foresee very many things to ensue, more than men do, and do sometimes beforehand tell the dispositions of them. 
Matth. 8. Mark. 1. Luke. 4.  They are so skilful, that they said to jesus Christ clothed with the infirmity of our flesh [What have we to do with thee jesus of Nazareth? art thou come hither to torment us, before our time?] But (as the same doctor of the church proceedeth) because they do not contemplate the eternal causes of times in the wisdom of God, but only conjecture of temporal things, by the temporal; and of mutable, by the mutable; they are oftentimes deceived. For they cannot behold the events of the eternal and immutable decrees of God, which flourish in his divine wisdom, by such a direct insight as it hath been given to the holy angels: and they see not the thing (if we may term it so) to which are fastened all causes, and whereupon they turn; neither do they know the fountain out of which they spring: wherefore it cometh to pass, that as all things, which are not collected and concluded by their certain principles, but by erring and estranged conjectures may deceive; so the devils are oftentimes beguiled in those signs, whereupon they rely, and tell lies even then, when they think themselves most assured to speak truth. But they always tend to this point because of their malignant & envious nature, to bring all hurt to men, which in the end they cannot avoid, when they forget themselves so far, as that they will (against the word of God) take counsel of the devil: an offence surely worthy of all punishment. Moreover I doubt not, but as the pure and superior powers (whom according to the style of holy writ, we call the good Angels, which is a word among the Greeks signifying Messenger) do not commonly suffer themselves to be entreated by every one, but do require and attend the cleanness of heart, the holiness of life, and the commandment of God: so on the contrary the devils or evil angels, to whom these two names do properly agree, this last according to doctrine of the scriptures, and the other (Daemon) of a Greek word, signifying (to know) they do make themselves easy, and show men a kind of lying favour, to the end that drawing to themselves by their craft and subtlety those, who require and seek their aid in their occasions, they may put God in oblivion, and abandon themselves to be possessed and governed by the devil, who is their prince. For so in fine it cometh to all those, which serve themselves with these ministers of iniquity: To all magicians, soothsayers, necromancers, sorcerers, witches and enchanters; 
Levit. 2●. Deut. 18.  with whom the word of God doth expressly charge us in many places, to have no communication; commanding also that they should be rooted out of the earth. And what wonders do they by the aid and help of evil spirits; often performing that, which neither art, nor human understanding can permit to be done? Yet can we no otherwise name all their works, then very cozenage and illusion: because they do it either in appearance only, or to the hurt and damage of those, which allow and suffer them. Such were those miracles, as we read in many authors to have been done amongst the idols of the gentiles, by the art of the devils. Of whom Saint Augustine after a long discourse, addeth these words. [What shall we speak of these wonders, 
Lib. 18. de civit Dei ch. 1●. jer. 51.  save that we must flee out of the midst of Babylon? For this prophetical commandment must thus be spiritually understood of us, to wit, that with the wings of faith, which worketh by charity, we flee out of the city of this world, which doubtless is the dale of devils, and of most wicked and impious men. For by how much greater we see the power of evil spirits in these inferior things, by so much the more must we most firmly cleave to our mediator jesus Christ, by whom we mount up from below.] And indeed it is by his grace that we may discern the spirits whether they be of God, 
1 john 4. 2. Cor. 11.  or not; yea that sathan cannot deceive us, though he were transformed into an angel of light. Otherwise let us not doubt, that if we will hearken to him, or to his ministers and spirits, whom the fools of this age flatter with the name of familiar spirits, that he will easily glide into our souls, to lead us at last in triumph to his kingdom of perdition, where we shall dearly buy the familiarity of so pernicious an enemy. Wherefore let us rather have always in our heart, and in our mouth, that prayer which our Saviour himself hath taught us, 
Matth. 6. Luke. 11.  [That he lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.] And let us leave the magicians and sorcerers, which run to their own destruction, seeking after the spirits, who lead them to the eternal Gehenna, which is prepared for the devil and his angels. 
Matth. 25.  But now sith it is time to put an end to our talk for this day, having surveyed the angelical or intellectual world, according to the capacity of our feeble spirit, we will to morrow entreat of the celestial world, or of the spheres. Whereupon you (ASER) shall begin to discourse.   
The end of the second days work.   

THE THIRD DAYS WORK.  

Of the celestial or spherical world. Chapter 17.  ASER. 
IF we begin our speech concerning the spherical, and of the elementary world, and entreat of them both according to the proper definition, we shall do very well, to the end that that which we intend to discourse of, may more easily be understood. The world then, 
What the world is.  which yesterday we called the threefold-one being contemplated with one view, is the perfect and entire composition of all things, and the true image and admirable workmanship of the Godhead. The greatness whereof is incomprehensible, and yet limited: being also adorned with all bodies, and kinds of creatures which are in nature. And the description thereof is properly called cosmography, which doth comprise in it the first part of Astronomy and Geography, that is, the order and reason, as well of heaven as of the earth: under which we understand all natures and essences in them contained. And for this cause it seemeth that God being father and author of all things, is oftentimes called in the scriptures, creator of heaven and earth. And as the Greeks' did first call the heaven (Cosmos) because of the surpassing beauty: so afterward the name of (Mundus) hath been attributed thereto, because of the perfect and most pure hue and neatness thereof. Again, because the world is a  body, that is full of celestial or elementary substances; and because it is of a round and orbicular form, performing a circular motion without intermission upon his own poles, & round about the earth (as about the centre thereof) it is called a Sphere. 
What a sphere is.  For a sphere is a body contained under one round superficies, in the midst whereof is a point, from which all lines that are drawn to the circumference are equal. 
Division of the world.  But as we consider the world in this sphere, so must we also contemplate it in two distinct parts, which manifest themselves by continual experience and natural reason: to wit, the elementary region, continually occupied in generation and corruption, in change and alteration of all things, as well living, as not living; and the celestial part, being of invariable substance and adorned with innumerable stars, as well fixed as wandering, which environ the said elementary region round about: so that the elements being diversly intermingled, infused and proportioned are the material cause and nurture of all things: and the heavenly part by the light thereof, by the motion and influence of the stars, is the formal cause of their figure, variety and specifical difference, and from it proceedeth their life. Now that we may entreat of this first part of the world, which we have named in our first division of the universe (the world of the spheres) we must note, that this celestial region (which philosophers call the fift essence, thereby meaning that it is of another, and more simple nature than the four elements) is by them divided into eight orbs and particular heavens, one joining to the other, and all concentrical, that is, having one common and self same centre, to wit, that of all the world; and of these heavens the greatest doth environ, and by a spherical order enclose within it that which is next and less than itself, being each discerned by the proper and particular motion of those stars which they contain: all which motions do vary one from another. And these eight orbs or spheres are, the heaven of fixed stars, which keep an unchangeable distance between themselves, and for this cause it is called the firmament: then follow the seven planets, of which the sun and moon are properly called Luminaria or great lights. 
Reason of the name of Planets.  And for Saturn, jupiter, Mars, Venus and Mercury, they are especially named planets, that is wandering in their motions. Whereupon we may note in regard of their names, that Astrologians to the end to make their doctrine to be more easily retained, and for certain good respect and secret reason, making themselves like painters to instruct the ignorant, have also named and represented these stars by personages of divers habits and countenances: as likewise they have disposed under divers figures the twelve signs of the Zodiac, which are certain stars, appointing to one the fashion of a ram, to another of a bull, to another of two twins, and so of the rest. So likewise they have signified the images of heaven, which are out of the Zodiac; one by a bear, another by an eagle, another by an harp; this by a dog, and that by a dragon, and so of the rest. To the sun itself they have assigned a proper form and figure, as also to the moon. And we see that painters have always made the picture of stars with five beams, to denote their twinkling light, though all of them do not glister so, but are of round fashion, without points or corporal beams. But return we to our matter concerning the heavens and celestial spheres, and let us speak of their order and situation.  

Of the order, and situation of the heavens.  The firmament, which is the eight heaven, as the highest and greatest of all the rest, and as the uttermost ornament and beauty of all the world, doth environ round about the heaven of Saturn; that of Saturn, the heaven of jupiter; that of jupiter, the heaven of Mars; and that of Mars the orb of the Sun, which possesseth the middle place among the seven planets: then the heaven of the Sun compasseth round about the heaven of Venus; that of Venus the heaven of Mercury; and lastly that of Mercury, the heaven of the Moon, which is the least & lowest of all the rest, and placed next about the elementary region. And this number and order of the heavens is commonly received of all Astronomers and Philosophers; and showeth itself to be such both by natural reasons, and by Mathematical observations. Moreover, for so much as by the Astronomers ring and other instruments fitting for the demonstration of this science, one may perceive that these eight spheres are distinguished and separated one from the other, certain reason doth thereupon conclude, 
Of the first mover, which is the ninth heaven.  that beside these there is a ninth, which is called the first mover, which is the guide of the heavens, and which by his own power and violence doth carry away all the others with it, being no whit governed by any lower circle, but only by that intelligence which moveth it, or else by the commandment of God, to whom all motion is drawn, as to the first mover, to the end that the whole harmony of heaven be not confused as Aristotle in the end of his Organon proveth. True it is also, that some modern Philosophers do place between the firmament and the first mover a ninth sphere, 
Of the Chrystalin heaven.  which they call the Crystalline heaven, for that some stars are not seen therein. And this is because that they cannot perceive, how there might be made in the eight sphere, the motion called Trepidation or tottering of the fixed stars if there were not a ninth heaven enclosed within the first mover. For it seems not likely to them, that the firmament which is turned with three motions, should be joined to the first mover which is carried with one only course. For this eight sphere hath one daily motion from the west to the east upon the poles of the Zodiac, which is the circle of the signs, upon which (according to Ptolemy) in each hundred years it runneth one degree; or else in sixty years, as others hold; then hath it the foresaid motion of Trepidation. Whereupon they conclude that there is a ninth heaven, that hath only a twofold motion, betwixt the starry heaven and the first mover, which is only turned with one motion; to the end that in good order all things may be reduced to the first moving. For as Aristotle in his profound Philosophy saith; it is necessary, that by most fit agreement and consent every thing may be reduced to that, which is the cause thereof. But because Ptolemy, Hermes, Aratus, and other ancients, most exquisite beholders of the heavens and of their motions and aspects, are contented with the number of nine spheres, many therefore reject the opinion of those which make ten: because that nothing maketh for them but only the motion of Trepidation, which, say they, may be well considered under the first mover, put for the ninth sphere. Besides which, our divines do yet declare to be a tenth heaven, which they call Empyreal, vital, flaming and divine, 
Of the tenth Empyreal heaven.  into which are received the souls of the blessed. And it seemeth that Plato and his Academics, especially Plato in his book of the world, doth consent to them. But this heaven and throne of God, cannot properly be reckoned with the other nine. For they be movable, but this is stable and immovable, they be of one substance only, and this of another. Wherefore we may aptly refer it to the Angelical and intellectual world, whereof we discoursed yesterday. And if we may be permitted again to discourse by numbers, as we have begun; it is certain that as the number of ten retaineth a double nature, because it doth partake with that number whereof it is the end, and with that other whereof it is the beginning: so the tenth in all the prime kinds of things doth consist of double nature. For man, which is the tenth kind of things subject to corruption, & at whom the other nine finish, is of a corruptible and incorruptible composition. So the nine heavens end at the imperial heaven, which in that it is material, agreeth with them, but in dignity of matter it doth participate with the supercelestial throne. As likewise they that speak of the nine orders of angels, say, that they end in Christ their king, who holdeth and embraceth in all perfection both the nature of angels, and also of God; to whom at last all things must be reduced, as to him, of whom, from whom, and by whom all things consist.  
Now that, which here we speak of the heavens, may likewise be learned out of Moses, the prince of all Philosophers, or rather of the creator of all things himself, who hath spoken by the mouth of his prophet, as also by himself. For after Moses had prayed the Eternal that he would be always with him, and that he would by continual oracles instruct him, as there should be great need, that he might rule such a number of people, and that he might give them the law; [I will be (saith he) with thee, and will dwell in the midst of thee: And according to all those things, which I shall show thee, even so shall you make the form of the Tabernacle. They shall make an Ark of Shittim wood, whereof the height and the breadth shall be a cubit and an half.] Such as have diligently interpreted this text, do amongst other mysteries find therein the nine heavens aptly represented: for a cubit is six palms, than a cubit and half high and broad are nine palms. And again, when he commandeth that upon the same ark he should make a crown of gold, which should serve it for a covering, and which was of precious stuff, far above that of the ark of wood, they would thereby make us understand, that the tenth heaven was figured. Which for that cause is not numbered commonly with the other nine, but is considered by our understanding to be the beginning of an other combination and coupling. For ten as it doth accomplish the other numbers, so is it the original of the ten; so an hundredth finishing the ten, beginneth the hundreds: So this covering of gold, otherwise called propitiatory, crowning the ark, was beginning to a better thing; for upon the same were placed the Cherubims, and there were obtained the merciful and favourable graces of God. In such sort likewise the imperial heaven, though it accomplisheth and finisheth the number of the nine heavens, yet is it the beginning of spiritual and divine things, and retaineth an angelical nature; yet so, that it is proportioned to the spheres, who are appointed to have a place. Again we have heretofore heard in the general division of the vniuers, how in the partition of the Tabernacle into three special parts, was very aptly signified that of the world, being a threefold-one. How also by the seven lamps of gold ordained to be set to the candlestick in the ark, might fitly seem to be represented the seven planets shining in their spheres: as likewise by the body of the same candlestick, out of the sides whereof proceeded six branches, to wit, three out of either side, might be particularly denoted the sun, which is placed in the midst of the planets, whereof there be three on each part in round form, which like cups or vessels receiving influences from above, do confer them on things here below, by which means sundry flowers do spring up. But because it would be too tedious for us to compare all that which belonged to the making of the ark with that which is taught us concerning the spheres, we will come to conclude that there be nine Heavens: to wit, the first movable, by which the supreme worker and first mover of all, moveth all things. Then is the starry heaven or firmament, by which the same creator distributeth his power into innumerable instruments to perform such things as he executeth, especially by means of the seven planets, which have every one their heaven, according to the order heretofore declared. And upon which, (according to our yesterdays speech) the Hebrew doctors, and many other divines do teach, that certain spirits (which they call celestial, or separated intelligences) do make abode, who being before the throne of God, rejoicing in his presence, do behold in his countenance as in a mirror, all things which may be contemplated, and at the very beck of the prince of nature, do put his will in execution, using the heavens as instruments by which, and according to the number of divers influences proceeding from all the stars and signs, here below are produced with one concurrence, metals, stones, plants, and living creatures. But before we more amply touch these things, which respect the nature and admirable effects of the heavens in all creatures, we must first entreat of their figure and motion, which (AMANA) shall be the subject of your discourse.   

Of the form and figure of heaven, and of the motion thereof as well general as particular. Chap. 18.  AMANA. 
THat the heaven is generally and particularly of circular form, and altogether round; the Latin name (Orbis) by which the ancients have commonly called it, 
That heaven is of round form.  is a sure testimony unto us. So likewise there are many natural reasons, which declare it to be such. For all the parts of the frame thereof do consist of themselves, do sustain themselves, and do comprehend themselves, not having need of any stay or joint, having neither a beginning nor ending place. Moreover this roundness of heaven may be known by the sight of the eye. For on which side soever you behold it, you may see the half in our hemisphere, as it doth show itself: which could not come to pass in any other figure, but in a round; which also is the most perfect, and most capable of all other figures to be comprised in lemma self-same circuit: and is therewithal the easiest to move every way. And therefore it is not only convenient, but also necessary for all the heavens and celestial orbs, of which we before entreated, as well because of the perfection of their essence, as by reason of their proper motions, which are circular, and correspondent to a round form, & besides all this, because these spheres are placed one within another, making their revolutions upon divers poles, and in divers spaces of time. Which could not be observed, nor the integrity of the whole heaven maintained, if the celestial form were any other save round and circular. 
Of the proper and natural motion of the spheres.  For the proper and natural motion of the spheres is circular, that is, framed equally distant round about their centre, which is the point in the midst of the world, so that neither the whole heaven, nor any of the particular spheres, doth wholly abandon or pass out of his own place and situation, but only the parts of them do incessantly change place, in that they turn about their said common centre. And therefore is this circular motion much more noble and perfect, then that which is made by a right line, either mounting from the centre of the world towards the circumference, 
Of the motion proper to the four elements.  or else descending from it towards the centre: which motion is proper to the four elements. For fire and air do mount upwards, but water and earth descend naturally downwards. Also fire mounteth higher than air, and earth descendeth lower than water, and each of these environ the centre of the world, which is the lowest place of all, and farthest from the circumference, which is the highest of all. So then the circular motion is naturally due and convenient to the most noble and most simple body, which is the heaven, and most necessary for it: as it appeareth more clearly to us by the continual motion of the stars, both fixed and wandering, which proceedeth of the only moving of their spheres. 
What stars are.  For we must note that the stars are nothing else but certain firm, clear, and  parts of their heavens, made in round form like the heaven, whose motion they follow, which likewise receive their light from the sun, who is the very source and fountain, whereinto the sovereign creator hath put the brightness of the whole universal world.  
Now this circular motion of heaven is found by observation to have two principal differences: that is to be made upon sundry poles and axes, and in sundry parts and positions of the world, as also in divers spaces and quantities of times. 
Of the axis of the spheres and of the poles.  [We call that the axis of the sphere, which is the diameter that passeth through the same, upon which it is turned, and the uttermost points of the same axis are the poles.] For the whole universal world hath his proper and natural motion like a living creature, and every of the orbs and particular heavens have also a peculiar motion, like to the parts and members of the whole great body. For which cause, as also for divers other considerations many learned personages have affirmed, that the world is an animal or living creature. And amongst others Origen is wholly of that mind, who enforceth himself to prove it, as well by reasons, as by authority of holy scripture. And therefore he saith thus in his book of principles. [though the world be ordained to divers offices, yet the estate thereof must not be thought to be dissonant or any whit disagreeing. But even as our body alone is composed of many members, 
Reasons of such as have said that the world is an animal.  and is contained by one soul; so I think we must suppose that the universal world is a great and unmeasurable animal, which as by a soul is sustained by the power and wisdom of God.] The Platonists do all with one mouth teach the same thing. And among many reasons, by which they would confirm this point, we will take only that of Plato in his Timaeus, which, me thinks, is most excellent. [There are (saith he) two motions, the one proper, the other strange or exterior; now that is more divine, which of itself is moved, then that which is stirred by the power of another. And this motion proper and divine is in our souls only, from which the beginning of the other strange motion is taken. Seeing therefore that all motion proceedeth of the ardour of the world, and that this ardour is not moved by exterior agitation, but of it own accord, it is therefore necessary, that there must be a soul. Whereupon we gather that the world is an animal, and that not without understanding.] Now if thereupon any ask why heaven changeth not, nor becometh diseased, nor dieth, nor faileth as other living creatures do? The answer of Chalcidius in this point pleaseth me very much, 
Notable difference in the works of God.  when he saith, commenting upon Timaeus, [That which is instituted by God without means, is free and exempt from change, from age, from sickness, from oldness, and from death.] And in this point agree all Academics: as also might be well proved by circumstance, if that be well considered, which the sage philosopher Moses declareth to have been produced by the creator, without help or matter, and that which hath been also performed by means of the second causes. For though man was created and form by the hands of God, yet was he not made without dust or earth, which was a mean subject. But the Eternal hath made the heavens, and the whole frame of the world of nothing: For which reason it might seem perpetual, and not perishing. For as we have heretofore declared; though the heavens and earth must pass away, yet doth not this plainly conclude an annihilating of them, but rather a changing and renewing. 
Psal. 102.  For so speaketh the kingly prophet, saying, [The heavens shall wax old as doth a garment, as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed.] And of this consideration we may frame an excellent reason concerning the immortality of the soul, because it was made without any means by God himself. But leaving this argument, let us pursue that, which we began to say concerning the principal differences of the circular motion of the heavens.  
Wherefore the first and universal motion of all the spheric world, is that, which we see is made round about the earth, 
Of the first, and universal motion of heaven.  from the east by south towards the west, always with one and the same orderly celerity and swiftness, and without any ceasing, which performeth his course in a natural day, which is divided into four and twenty equal hours, as is plainly showed unto us by the ordinary course of the sun. So that the whole heaven, and each of those celestial spheres, do follow the said daily motion, though it be not proper to them but accidental, in that they are the parts of the universal world. For (as we shall presently see) every sphere hath an other proper and particular motion. But this same, whereof we speak, doth in such sort by accident agree with all the parts of the world, that the most thin and subtle elements, especially fire, and the superior region of the air, are in like sort carried away therewith. So likewise doth the sea, though it environeth not the earth round about, in some sort follow this motion by ebbing and flowing every natural day, not performing an entire revolution. Wherefore nothing but the earth remaineth unmovable, because of the weight, and insensible quantity of it in respect of the whole world, as being the centre thereof. The stableness whereof is very necessary, that so both the universal and each particular motion may be discerned; for otherwise there should be a confusion in stead of harmony. And for this cause many have supposed, that this whole universe generally considered, is the first & very true mover of the universal motion, and not any heaven or particular orb. Now for the second kind of circular motions, 
Of the second kind of circular motions.  it is that which is proper to every of the eight spheres and celestial orbs, which are the parts of the whole heaven, from the firmament to the sphere of the moon. For each of these spheres (as is evidently perceived by the stars enchased therein, which can have no motion but according to their heaven) performeth his own natural and peculiar motion, contrary to the first, and upon other poles and axes, to wit, from the west by south towards the east. And the entire revolutions of those spheres, are done and finished in divers spaces of time, to wit, of the greater & superior more late, & of the less and inferior (being next to the elements) more soon. For the heaven of fixed stars, according to the most likely opinion and apparent observation of Astronomers, performeth his own revolution in thirty six thousand common years, without bissext, whereof each containeth 365. natural days: Saturn the highest planet, in thirty years; jupiter, which hath his circle much lower, in twelve: Mars in two; the Sun in 365. natural days, & almost one fourth part of a day, which make up the time and space of a year. For one shall always find, that number of days being run out, the shadow of the sun to be such, as (if you mark it) was the year before, at the very same instant, yea to the difference scarce of a minute. 
Of the bissextile day, or leap year.  Whereby it cometh, that from four year to four year, is reckoned a bissextile day, which serveth to make the year answerable to the course of the sun. The revolution of whom, Venus and Mercury do near approach unto: and for the Moon she maketh hers in seven and twenty natural days, and almost one third part of a day: so that in so small time she maketh as much way in regard of us, as Saturn doth in thirty years: because he is the farthest from, and she the nearest to the earth, which causeth her course to be shorter than any other planet. 
Of distances between the spheres.  And this is the consideration, which hath given occasion to many to cast the distances and spaces which are between the spheres: saying, that there is nineteen times so much distance between the Sun and Moon, as is between the Moon and the earth, & so of the rest. Pythagoras himself, 
Pliny in his natural history lib. 2.  a man very ingenious, counted by his calculation (as Pliny relateth) that there were 125000. stades or furlongs between the earth and the circle of the Moon: and that from the Moon to the Sun there were the double of them; and between the sun and signs of the Zodiac the triple. Now a stade (or furlong) was measured by the ancients to consist of one hundred five and twenty common paces, or else of seven hundredth and fifty feet. But so certainly to determine of the dimensions and distances between the spheres, should (me thinketh) be too great an enterprise for the capacity of our spirits. Yet may the curious by some infallible reason of Geometry, or rather by imagined conjectures resolve upon it. And to conclude our discourse concerning the motions of heaven, we see that though by the rapiditie & violence of the continual motion of the first mover, all the spheres are carried away with it, in the space of four and twenty hours from east by south towards the west, returning by north, or midnight towards the east; 
A good cause o● the motions of the spheres.  yet nevertheless every one of them hath his proper and particular motion, clean contrary to the universal, that is, from the west towards the east. Which is chief done because that by the reverberation of these contrary motions, the air may be parted and dispersed, which otherwise would heap and gather together, and become immovable and heavy, because of the continual revolution of the world, turning always one way. And besides these principal differences of the circular motion of the heavens, all the planets have other motions of farther consideration, which are called circuits of the great revolution, and which do concur in the great year, which is taken for the time when all the planets shall fully finish their courses together. But we have said enough concerning this matter, considering the intent of our discourse; wherefore we will prosecute as briefly as we may the other particularities serving for the knowledge of the spheres, even so much as we shall hold needful for our present history of heaven and earth. Then you shall discourse to us (ARAM) of those circles which show themselves in the sphere, and of the diversity and disposition of them.   

Of the circles in general, and particularly of the Equinoctial and Zodiac, and of their signs. Chapter 19  ARAM. 
IN the sphere of the world are two kinds of circles demonstrated, whereof some are named greater, 
Of the greater and smaller circles of the sphere.  and some lesser circles. They which have lemma self-same and common centre with the whole heaven, are called greater circles, and are one equal to another, and do divide the globe into two equal parts. But such circles as have their centres out of that of the sphere, are called lesser circles, of which those only, that have their middle points alike distant from that of the whole heaven, are equal one to another: being by so much the smaller, by how much their centre is farther from the centre of the whole. And therefore they which have their centres unequally distant from that of the heaven, are unequal, and that is greater than the rest, whose middle point is nearest to that of the sphere: and consequently the one is by so much the more unequal to the other, by how much the centre of the one is farther distant from the centre of the other. And it is to be noted that all circular motion of any heaven and planet whatsoever, must be considered and measured by means of a greater circle: to wit that, which is directly placed between the poles of the same motion, and is equally distant from the same: because it is a circle of the greatest circuit and swiftness, that may be designed by the same motion. 
Some circles are movable and some are immovable.  But we must understand, that among all the circles, there is one part movable that is incessantly turning therewith, and the other fixed and immovable, serving for to discern the better the accidents and effects of the spherical motions and moving circles. First then to entreat of the movable circles, as likewise to prosecute that which we have heard in our precedent discourse, that there be two principal motions of heaven, whereof one is of the universal world, making his revolution from the east towards the west, and the other contrary from west to east, as is proper to the planets: we must imagine in the sphere of the world two principal circles, to wit, the Equinoctial or Equator serving for the first of those motions, and the Zodiac or Ecliptic for the second. The Equinoctial then is a great circle, 
Of the equinoctial circle.  dividing the total sphere into two equal parts, being placed directly between the two poles of the world, and equally distant in all parts from them. By the which circle is measured and considered the prime and universal motion of the whole world: and consequently the time, which is nothing else but the measure of the succeeding of the same motion, which is always of lemma self-same course and quickness, and whereof the said circle is called the Equator. Under which the sun directly coming (which is twice every year) the days are of equal length with the nights throughout the whole world: for which cause likewise the same circle is called the Equinoctial, that is the circle of equal nights. And the poles thereof are those of the whole world; about which the universal and regular motion is made: whereof that which is in the north parts, is called by the same name, 
Of the poles of the world.  either the pole artic, north-pole, or septentrional, which is always seen where we inhabit, and about which there is a certain figure of seven fixed stars, turning circularly, which is called the great Bear, or most commonly the Wain. And the other pole opposite to this is named the pole Antarctic, south-pole, or Meridional being towards the south, & is always hid from us. For the second great and principal circle among those which are movable, 
Of the zodiac.  it is nominated the Zodiac or Ecliptic, or else the obliqne circle: and it is that, wherein the twelve signs are placed of divers names and figures, being indeed obliquely placed in respect of the Equinoctial, and poles of the world: so that one half thereof extendeth toward the north or pole artic, and the other moiety declineth toward the south and pole antarctic. And this circle is the very path way of the sun and rest of the planets, all which keep their peculiar motion in the Zodiac, to the end to distribute their influence and virtue upon the earth, for the life and production of all things. Now the Zodiac both divide in the midst the Equinoctial, and is thereby divided also into two equal halves. 
Of the equinoctial p●in● and solstists.  And the points of these intersections are called Equinoctial points, because the sun being in them, they days are universally equal to the nights; as also the points of the foresaid Zodiac, which are means between the said Equinoctial points are named Sunsteads' or Tropics, that is to say, stations, or reversions of the sun: because that, it arriving about those points, the meridian altitudes and artificial days do long remain in one estate, without any notable variation; as also for that coming to the said Sunsteads', it returneth towards the Equinoctial. And thus the two Equinoctial points, and the two Sunsteads' divide the Zodiac into four parts, answerable to the four seasons of the year: which are the Spring, summer, Autumn, 
Of the four seasons of the year.  and Winter. Of which, the Spring time beginneth at that Equinoctial point, from which the sun by his proper motion, cometh and inclineth towards the highest point called Vertical. Summer beginneth at the Sunstead next following. autumn at the other Equinoctial: and Winter at the second sunstead; so that the said Equinoctial points are called by the names of the foresaid seasons. And because that every natural action hath beginning, middle, and end: 
Division of the zodiac into twelve parts called signs.  therefore each of these said quarters of the Zodiac is divided into three equal parts, and so the whole Zodiac into twelve: which parts are named signs, because they signify, and design the most notable and apparent mutations of things here below, being chief caused by the yearly course of the Sun along the Zodiac. Every of the said seasons of the year is likewise divided into three parts, and the whole year into twelve, called months, that is to say measures of the time, wherein the sun passeth the said twelve signs. And as the twelve months have been divided some into thirty, and others into thirty one natural days; even so is every sign parted into thirty degrees, and the whole Zodiac into 360. Then every degree into 60. prime minutes, and every prime minute into 60. seconds, and so consequently into other subdivisions so far as one will. Wherein is to be noted, that this number of 60. must always be observed, because it may be divided into more equal parts then any other number under 100  
Now forasmuch as the sun, according as it is removed or approacheth near the highest points called Vertical, doth cast forth his beams more directly 〈◊〉 obliquely upon the earth: for this cause also the heat, and proper action of the stars and planets is more forcible, or feeble in things here below, and according as it findeth them prepared causeth divers effects. Which diversity is notoriously apparent from sign to sign. And therefore the twelve signs of the Zodiac are called by certain proper names, extracted from the nature and property of things correspondent with their said effects. 
Of the names of the twelve signs and the causes thereof.  The first sign is nominated (Aries) because that the Sun than beginneth to approach to the highest point, and the heat thereof doth increase, which mixing with the humidity that the precedent winter had brought in, maketh the temperature of the air hot and moist, which agreeth with the nature of a ram. The second sign is called (Taurus) because that when the sun is therein, the heat fortifieth itself, and consumeth the moisture, so that the temperature of the air tendeth somewhat to dryness, which seemeth very answerable to the nature of the bull, which is of greater power than that of sheep. The third sign is named (Gemini) because the Sun being therein, hath his heat redoubled: and amongst all kinds of beasts the males and females have natural copulation, two and two together to engender one like themselves, and to continue their kind. The fourth sign is said to be (Cancer) for even as the crab goeth backward, so the sun entering into this sign retireth back towards the Equinoctial from whence he came, making his declinations contrary to those of Gemini. The fift sign is called (Leo) because the sun being therein, by the redoubling of his beams, the heat is strong, and dryness great, even as the lion is a puissant beast, of hot and dry nature. The sixth sign is named (Virgo) for as the virgin is a weak creature, and of herself barren; so the sun being in this sign the heat diminisheth, and dryness ruleth; whereby the production of things ceaseth, and the earth becometh barren. The seventh sign hath to name (Libra) because the disposition of the air is then in balance between the wasted heat and new-begun coldness, and because also the sun being in this sign, the days and nights are in balance between the decreasing of the one, and increasing of the other. The eight is called (Scorpio) because that then the cold ruling with dryness are great enemies to nature, and do corrupt the air, which hath the proper quality of hot and moist: whereupon ensue plagues, and other dangerous diseases, which surprise the creature, like the venom of a scorpion, which lies in his tail, and is engendered of corruption. The ninth sign is named (Sagittarius) for the sun being in it, the too much weakened heat is surmounted by cold, whereupon there ensue fogs and frosts, and other alterations of the air, as hurtful to creatures, as envenomed arrows. The tenth sign is nominated (Capricornus) because that the sun entering thereinto, is the farthest that all the year it can be from the vertical point; so that by rigour of the cold mixed with dryness, which hath then full domination, as also by reason of the debility of heat, the disposition of the air is melancholy, retaining the nature of a goat. The eleventh sign is signified by (Aquarius) because then the dryness is surmounted by the moisture now beginning, the cold nevertheless remaining: wherefore the air is cold and moist like water, and disposed to snows and rain. The twelfth and last sign is (Pisces) because as fishes are cold and moist, following naturally the water, having yet some little natural heat: even so is the temperature of the air then cold and moist, having yet some heat growing by the approach of the sun to the vernal Equinoctial point, so that the cold diminisheth. And thus much concerning the signs of the Zodiac, and the names to them ascribed, for which cause the fixed stars, which are in this circle and comprised within the said signs, both of the one side and on the other, have been painted according to the fashion of the said beasts: and their influence judged from the causes by us here declared; and not that the said signs have taken their names of the nature and disposition of the said stars. And by this consideration of the property of each sign in the Zodiac, we learn, that by the introduction of one quality, ensueth the expulsion of the contrary; and by the augmentation of the one, the decrease of the other. Which must only be understood concerning the qualities happening in the air, by the radiation of the sun only, being strong, mean, and weak, and the disposition of inferior things; without comprising therein the other constellations and aspects of the planets, changing & greatly altering the said disposition of the air: neither do we touch the opinions of professors of judicial Astrology, who for other reasons and principles of the said art, attribute to the same signs other qualities than those that we have expressed. But from them we may extract four triplicities, which make the twelve signs correspond with the four elements: to wit, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, with the fire: Pisces, Aries, and Taurus, with the air: Sagittarius, Capricornus, Aquarius, with water: and Virgo, Libra, and Scorpio, with earth. Now must we pursue our purpose concerning the circles of the sphere, as well great as small, movable as immovable: the treatise whereof (ACHITOB) I refer to you.   

Of the two great circles named Colours, and of the four less circles and parallels, of the five Zones of the world and immovable circles. Chap. 20.  ACHITOB. 
BEsides the two principal movable circles which have been declared unto us in the precedent speech, there are also demonstrated in the sphere two other great circles; whereof one passeth by the Equinoctial points, and the other by the Solstists or sunsteads and poles of the Zodiac, and both by the poles of the world, where they are divided into three angles. And by this means they part as well the Equinoctial as the Zodiac into four parts; the parts whereof answer together in just and equal proportion. 
Of two circles called Colours.  These two circles have to name Colours, that is to say, unperfect, because they have an unperfect revolution in turning with the sphere upon the points of their circumference, and not about their proper poles, like other circles. One of them then is called the Equinoctial colour, and the other the Solstitial colour. And the one passeth by the circle of the Zodiac at the beginning of the signs Aries & Libra, which are the Equinoctial signs: and the other at the beginning of the signs Cancer and Capricorn, which are the Solstitial signs. And it is to be noted that the ark of the Solstitial Colour comprised between the Equinoctial and one of the Solstists, is the measure of the greatest declination of the Sun: which must of necessity be equal to the ark of that Colour, which is between one of the poles of the world, and the next pole of the Zodiac. For by how much one greater circle declineth from another, by so much the poles of the one are distant from the poles of the other; because all greater circles are equal, and have one common centre, and do equally part themselves: and likewise their declination is just in the midst of their cuttings or intersections.  
We must also consider in the sphere four principal lesser and movable circles; whereof the two first do limit out the whole obliquenes of the Zodiac, and the declination thereof from the Equinoctial, as also the conversions of the Sun towards it. And these circles are nominated tropics, 
Of the two tropic.  that is, turning or convertive, because they pass by the two Solstists of the Zodiac. That than which passeth by the first point of Cancer, which is the Sommer-Solstice, is called the Tropic of Cancer, or sommer-Tropick: and that which passeth by the first point of Capricorn, or winter-solstice, is named the winter-Tropicke, or Tropic of Capricorn: being therefore one equal to another, because they are equally distant from the Equinoctial. For the two other lesser circles, 
Of the two polary circles.  they are those which be described about the poles of the world, by the poles of the zodiac, limiting the deviation or distance of the said poles: and for this cause they are called polarie-circles, and do retain the names of the Poles of the world. For one is named the North or Arcticke-circle, and the other the South or Antarcticke-circle, being also equal one to another by the same reason, as is understood of the Tropics. And you must note that these said four lesser circles do divide the whole sphere into five parts or principal regions, commonly called Zones: whereto as many parts, or divers regions answer upon the terrestrial globe: 
Of the five zones of the world.  which Zones are different as well in figure and greatness, as also in nature or accidental disposition, caused chief by the radiation of the sun. The first then of these five parts or regions of the sphere is comprehended between the two Tropics, & divided by the Equinoctial in the midst; for which cause it is the most ample of all the rest. The two extremest and smallest are comprised about the poles of the world, within the Arctic and Antarctic circles: wherefore the one is called the North, and the other the South Zone. And the other two are means between the greatest, which is middlemost; and the two extremest or least, which are about the poles of the world, being larger towards the two tropics, then towards the polary circles, which together are the bounds of them. And among these five Zones which environ the earth, some parts of them are become habitable, 
Of the causes which make some parts of the earth habitable and others not.  and others not, by means of the divers effects caused by the sun. For the mean region about the equinoctial, is for three causes temperate. First, because the sun being under, or about the said Equinoctial, it maketh a greater circuit in the Universal motion of the whole world, and runs faster away; for which cause his heat maketh not so great impression upon the earth. Secondly, because it passeth suddenly from the South to the North part, by reason of the transuers disposition of the Zodiac about the Equinoctial. And thirdly, because the days are there equal with the nights, whereby the heat of the one is tempered by the coldness of the other. But about the Tropics the heat is excessive in Summer. First, because the sun is then in those stations, wherein his shining endureth longer upon the earth, and by reason also that he performeth less compass, and passeth slowly away, whereby his heat taketh more deep impression. And besides all this, the days are longer than the nights, in such sort that the heat of the one surmounteth the cold of the other. For the two polarie regions and the circumiacent parts, it is manifest that they are far out of the funs way; whereof ensueth, that by the too much obliqne radiation thereof, heat is there exceeding feeble, and cold great and intolerable. Finally, in the midst or about the two other foresaid regions between the Equinoctial and poles of the world, the disposition of the air is temperate; as well by reason of the commixture of the heat, which is about the Tropics, and the cold which is about the polarie circles, as because of the mean radiation of the sun; that is to say, neither too direct, nor too obliqne. So then the middle Zone, comprised between the two Tropics is temperate about the midst, & intemperate through excessive heat, about the extremities thereof: whereupon it is in this part called the Torrid-zone, because the sun doth always turn about it. And the two polarie and extreme regions, are perpetually intemperate through cold. And the two means are temperate about the midst; and in one extreme thereof intemperate with heat, and in the other with cold. But thereof follows not, that all intemperate places should be inhabitable, but only very hard, and difficult to dwell in.  
Hitherto hath our talk been concerning the principal and movable circles of the sphere: 
Of immovable circles, and first of the Horizon.  now let us entreat of the immovable. Even then as the Zodiac & Equinoctial are the two chiefest amongst the movable circles: so are the Horizon and Meridian amongst the immovable. By the Horizon is meant a great circle imagined in heaven, which divideth that half of heaven which is seen, from that half which is not seen: that is, which parteth the Hemisphere under us, from that which is above us. And to this same circle one of the poles is always the vertical point, and the other pole is the point opposite. Wherefore by how much each place hath his point higher, by so much doth the Horizon of each place differ; for there are so many Orisons as there be particular places. And therefore the Horizon of those, which have the vertical point (that is, the point which is right over head) under the Equinoctial, is named the right Horizon, because it must needs pass by the poles of the world, and divideth the Equinoctial at right angel's one equal to another. Whereupon it is also called a right sphere, because it seemeth to be rightly placed in respect of that Horizon, and the stars to make their motion directly by the universal motion of the sphere. But the Horizon of those whose zenith is out of the Equinoctial towards the one or other pole of the world, is called obliqne, because that one of the poles (to wit, that which the vertical point is next to) is elevated above the said Horizon; and the other pole is so much depressed under the same: which for this occasion doth divide the Equinoctial at obliqne angles, unequal one to another. Wherefore also the sphere is said to be obliqne, because it is obliquely placed in respect of the said Horizon: and the stars turn obliquely in the universal motion. And therefore it is evident, that all direct Orisons are of lemma self-same disposition, but amongst the obliqne, there are as many differences of obliquity, as are distances between the vertical point and the Equinoctial, or as the elevation of the pole is divers above them. For the Meridian, it is a great circle, which passeth by the poles of the world and that point of heaven, which is directly over our heads, wheresoever we are: and divideth both the Equinoctial and Horizon at right angles, 
Of the Meridian circle.  separating also half the sphere being east, from the half that is west. The poles whereof are the intersections of the Horizon and of the Equinoctial. And because it divideth the natural day, and the artificial day (whereof we must hereafter entreat) into two even parts, it is called the Meridian, or midday circle, which is as much to say, as the noontide circle. For when soever the sun is come from the east to this circle, above the Horizon, it is high noon: when to the opposite point under the Horizon, it is midnight. All places then, according as they are more oriental, or more occidental, have their proper Meridian, and they which lie alike east, or west, have one self Meridian, though they be not alike distant from the Equinoctial. And you must understand, that every Meridian is a right Horizon to some, and every right Horizon a Meridian.  
Now do I next proceed to the other immovable circles of the sphere, without which, no man can understand the making and use of many instruments, especially of the Astrolabe, which representeth the sphere reduced into a plain form. Of these circles, some are called vertical, some parallels of heights: then are there circles of hours, & those which distinguish the twelve houses of heaven. 
Of vertical circles.  The vertical are certain great circles, which proceed from the vertical point (whereof they are named) above the Horizon, which they divide into 360. degrees, and of the number of those si the Meridian. But there is one especially called the vertical circle, which in the right sphere is the Equinoctial itself, to wit, that which divideth the Meridian at right angles, and the Horizon also in the same points, where it is separated from the Equinoctial, which circle with the Meridian designeth the four principal angles of the world, that is, the exact points of East, West, North and South, dividing both the Horizon and upper hemisphere into four parts, one equal to another. And the other vertical circles serve for to discern in what quarter of the Horizon the stars rise and set, or in what part of the superior hemisphere the same stars are elevated above the Horizon, and how much they are distant from the Meridian, or from the foresaid principal vertical circle. 
Of parallel circles.  Now for the parallels of heights, they be circles being every where alike distant one from another, divided from the Horizon from degree to degree towards the verticallpoint; whereof the greatest is next the Horizon, and the least of all nearest to the said superior point. Which parallels do divide every quadrant of the foresaid vertical circles, comprehended between the vertical point and the Horizon, into 90. degrees, and are also divided by the same circles into 360. degrees. Moreover they determine or distinguish the heights of the stars, which are above the Horizon, as well in the east, as in the south and west. For by the height is to be considered of every star, you must understand the arch of the vertical circle, which passeth by the centre thereof, comprised betwixt the Horizon, and the parallel of the same, passing also by the same centre. Whereupon ensueth, that in all vertical circles, which are equally distant from the Meridian, the stars have equal heights, which cometh to pass in time equally distant, or reckoned from noontide. And the greatest altitude that any star may have, is when it cometh under the Meridian circle, at what howersoever it be. Now must we look upon the hour circles, and those which divide the twelve houses of heaven: whereof ASER I impose the task on you to discourse.   

Of the hower-circles, and what is done by them in sunne-dials: and of the circles, which divide the twelve houses of heaven. Chap. 21.  ASER. 
Sigh that time is nothing else but the measure of the prime and regular motion of the whole world, as we have heretofore declared, and that this motion is measured by the Equinoctial, as out of our precedent speech may be excerped: thereupon it is consequent, that the Equinoctial is the measure of time, and that the entire revolution of the same circle comprehendeth the natural day: whereupon ensueth that the division of the one must needs be answerable to the parting of the other. 
Division of the Equinoctial.  Now the Equinoctial is divided into twelve signs, and each sign into thirty degrees, as is the Zodiac. Therefore parting each sign into two halves, the whole Equinoctial shall be divided into 24. equal portions, containing each 15. degrees: which are the measures of 24. such hours of a natural day. You must therefore imagine by the hower-circles, twelve greater circles (therein comprising the Meridian) which pass through the poles of the world, and by the distinctions of the foresaid four and twenty parts of the Equinoctial: so that each quarter thereof, 
Of the hour circles.  comprehended between the Meridian and the Horizon, is divided by the said circles into six of the foresaid parts, making together the number of four & twenty hourly spaces, whereof the said circles receive their name. Amongst which, that which divideth the Meridian at right angles, passeth by the intersections of the Equinoctial and Horizon; and maketh the distinction of six hours, both before and after noon. So that there is no greater circle which may be divided into four and twenty equal parts by the hower-circles, but only the Equinoctial, except it be conjoined therewith. Wherefore as well the obliqne Horizon, as the Vertical circle, which cutteth the Meridian at right angles, is divided into four & twenty unequal parts; which are so much the more one differing from the other, as the poles of the world are elevated above, or under five and forty degrees: and though these parts are unequal, yet the spaces of the hours are equal in the said circles, because they proceed of the equal parts & divisions of the Equinoctial; yet so, that the said equal spaces aswell in the Horizon, as in the Vertical circle, which are equally distant from the Meridian, are equal, as well on the one side, as on the other: and are by so much greater the one then the other, by how much they are farther distant from the same Meridian. Wherefore those next to the intersections of the Horizon and the foresaid upper circle, are the greatest of all: and in the same sort are the four quarters of the said circles divided. It is to be noted, that every right Horizon is joined with the hower-circle of six hours, without any division: and the Vertical circle joined with the Equinoctial is divided equally as it is. But in the most obliqne situation of the sphere, where one of the poles of the world is the superior point, or Zenith, the Horizon is right with the Equinoctial, and divided like it by the said hourly circles, which are all of them then called Vertical circles.  

cause of the diversity of dials, or quadrants.  Those dials therefore or quadrants, which are made to take the height of the sun, are composed by divers considerations: for some depend upon sections made by the foresaid hower-circles, as those which are graven on the face of the Equinoctial, and are therefore called Equinoctiall-dials: or else upon the plain of the Horizon, which are named horizontal: or upon the face of the Verticall-circle, which divideth the Meridian at right angles, which are erected towards the south, and are nominated Vertical. In which three sorts of dials, the hower-spaces are noted by strait lines proceeding out of one only point, which representeth the centre of the world: and the Index or gnomon to show those hours representeth the Axis, upon which the heaven maketh his first, and universal motion. The other sunne-dials depend upon the coextension or impression of the foresaid hower-circles: as those which are described upon the face of the Meridian circle, and are erected towards the east or west, being named Lateral, and can serve but only for the forenoon, or afternoon: or such as are made upon the face of the six hours circle, hanging and inclining towards the south, by the axtree of the world, for this cause named hanging-dials. In which two sorts of dials the hower-spaces are designed by parallel lines, and the Indices by the axtrees of the circles, or else they are described and erected perpendicularly upon the face of the said circles. And in all the forerecited dials, and such like, the hower-spaces are unequal, and have notable difference one from another: except those only, which are drawn upon the face of the Equinoctial: because it alone is divided into even portions by the hower-circles; whereof the projection in Plano must observe equal spaces. And by consequence it is evident, that only Equinoctial and horizontal dials serve for all hours of the day at all times of the year: and the Vertical only six hours before, and six hours after noon: the hanging-dials ten hours; five before, and five after noon: and the Lateral from sun rising till noon, or from noon till sun set. Moreover it is manifest, that all these dials, except the Equinoctial dials, must be described particularly according to the proper elevation of the pole, above every obliqne Horizon: because the hower-spaces and Indices are divers, according to the variety of the said polary-elevations. But the Equinoctial dials may serve universally, in applying them according to the height of the Equinoctial, above every obliqne Horizon; because those spaces are equal, and of one sort.  
But breaking off this talk of dials, 
Of the twelve houses of heaven.  let us now entreat of those circles, which with the Horizon and Meridian divide the whole heaven into twelve equal portions, which are named the twelve houses of heaven. First then is to be noted, that as the sun and the rest of the planets in performing their revolution, by their proper and peculiar motion in the Zodiac, according to the radiation of the sun, being notably diversified from sign to sign, and according to the disposition of elementary substances, do imprint their influence and virtue diversly, causing sundry effects upon the earth: so likewise these fair celestial lights being turned every day about the earth, by the first and universal motion of the whole sphere, do make the very like mutation of their power and influence upon the terrestrial globe, by the variation of their shining; as may be marked from sign to sign, either mounting above, or descending under the Horizon. 
Circles that divide the twelve houses of heaven.  For this cause you must divide the entire sphere of the world in regard of the Horizon being right, or obliqne, into twelve equal parts or signs, which are called houses, that is, notable mansions of heaven. Which is done by the proper Horizon and Meridian, with four other great circles and particular Orisons, passing by the two intersections of the said proper Horizon and Meridian circle, and dividing every quarter of the principal Vertical circle (which maketh right angles with the said Meridian) comprehended between the said Meridian and the Horizon, into three signs, which amount together to the number of twelve. And these houses, or notable mansions of heaven begin at the east side of the Horizon: and the first six are distributed under it, and the other six above it, according to the order of the twelve signs of the Zodiac and the proper motion of the planets, which is from the west, eastward. So that by the Horizon with the Meridian, the four principal angles of the said houses are distinguished: that is, the east angle, which is named the Horoscope, being the beginning of the first house; the west angle of the Horizon whereat beginneth the seventh house; and the mid heaven, which is the third angle, and there beginneth the tenth house; and for the fourth the angle under earth, where beginneth the fourth house, by the Meridian: 
agreeableness of the twelve houses with the divers seasons of the year.  Even so (as we have heard) as the colours distinguish the two Equinoctial points, and the two Solstists or sunsteads of the zodiac, which are the four notable points thereof agreeing with the four angles aforesaid. For the Horoscope agreeth with the vernal Equinoctial point; mid-heaven with the summer Solstice: the west angle with the Autumn Equinoctial point: and the angle under the earth with the winter Solstice: and so consequently the four quarters of the foresaid Vertical circle are correspondent to those of the Zodiac, which make the four seasons of the year, and each whereof is divided into three signs, as also every quarter of the said circle into three houses equal to those signs; so that the six houses, which are above the Horizon do accord with the six septentrional signs of the Zodiac; and the six other houses with the south or Meridional signs. And these twelve houses of heaven are called by divers names; for those four which begin at the four foresaid angles, are named Angularie houses: the next four following are called Succedent; and the rest Cadent. Moreover we must note that in the right sphere, each of these houses comprehendeth one sign of the Equinoctial; because this circle is joined with the foresaid Vertical: and all the circles which distinguish them pass by the poles of the world, because they consist in the foresaid sections of the Horizon and Meridian: which hath caused many to err in this point, who would make the distinction of the said houses in the Equinoctial, both in the obliqne and in the right sphere, lightly following the authority of Ptolemy, not noting how that author had the sphere right to him: so that in that respect he spoke well, referring the manner how to distinguish the said houses in the obliqne sphere to the judgement of all good Astronomers. Finally it is to be understood, that every house is divided into thirty degrees, like the signs of the Zodiac, and that by other great circles, proceeding from the foresaid intersections of the Meridian and Horizon. Moreover you must note, that every great circle which passeth by the said intersections, and by the true place of any star, which is proposed, is called the Horizon thereof: for all the foresaid circles (as already hath been declared) are but obliqne Orisons except the Meridian, which representeth the right Horizon. Then to erect the twelve houses of heaven, is nothing else but to find the twelve principal intersections of the Zodiac, and of the foresaid circles; which is performed by the ascensions of the arcks of the Zodiac, above each of the said circles (whereof we must presently entreat) not regarding which ark of the said Zodiac is contained in each of the said houses. Wherefore (AMANA) let us hear you discourse concerning the ascensions and descensions both of the stars, and of the signs of the Zodiac.   

Of the ascensions and descensions of the stars, and of the signs and other arcks of the Zodiac, and of the oriental and occidental latitude of the sun, or degrees of the Zodiac. Chapter 22.  AMANA. 
WE should reap small fruit and commodity of things, hitherto by us entreated of in the sphere, if we should be ignorant in the ascensions and descensions both of the stars and signs, and other arcks of the Zodiac, according to the use and principal consideration of good Astronomers, who mark what hour the stars ascend above the Horizon, or descend under it, whether it be day or night: and how long time the signs and other arcks of the Zodiac are elevated above the said Horizon, or depressed under it; not respecting the simple apparition or absence of the said stars and signs, which divers do usually observe, and which the Poets do commonly mention, when they would express and describe the seasons and months, and other parts of the year. 
What the ascension, descension of any star is.  To enter then into the substance of our discourse, we must understand by the ascension of any star, that we propose, the ark of the Equinoctial, comprised according to the order of the twelve signs of the Zodiac, between the beginning of the said signs and the oriental part of the Horizon, then when the centre of the said star attaineth to the same part of the Horizon. And consequently the descension of the same star is the ark of the said Equinoctial, comprehended according to the order of the said signs between the beginning of them, and the west part of the Horizon, when the same Horizon passeth by the centre of the said star. Which consideration is every whit agreeable in each part of the Zodiac, or elsewhere. For the stars are in this place taken for points, howsoever they be of notable greatness: wherefore it is necessary that their ascensions and descensions should be measured and discerned by the arcks of the Equinoctial, having some convenient beginning common to all Orisons, as the vernal Equinoctial point is the beginning of the signs of the Zodiac. And by the same arcks taken as aforesaid; and for that the Equinoctial is the measure of time, one may know at what hour and minute the star riseth above the Horizon, or descendeth under it, or attaineth to the Meridian circle, either above or under the earth, by the first and regular motion of the whole world. And you must note, that the said ascensions or descensions are called right ones when they are referred to the right Horizon, or to the Meridian circle, which retaineth such qualities in all obliquenes of the sphere, as the right Horizon doth: and consequently they are called obliqne, when they are referred to the obliqne Horizon.  
For the ascensions of the signs of the zodiac, very necessary to be understood, for to measure and know the quantity of the artificial days & nights in all places of the earth, as hereafter we may declare: it is to be noted, 
Of the ascension of signs.  that the ascension of every sign is nothing else, but the ark of the Equinoctial elevated together with the said sign above the Horizon; as the descension is the ark of the said Equinoctial which descendeth under the Horizon equally with the said sign: wherefore according as this ark coascending or descending with any sign is more great or less; so likewise the time that the said sign shall be elevated above the Horizon, or depressed under it, shall be longer or shorter. And it is to be noted, that that sign of the zodiac wherewith is elevated one sign of the Equinoctial precisely, is said to have an equal ascension: I omit here to specify the accidents and differences of the ascensions and descensions of the signs, which are particularly considered both in the right and in the obliqne sphere, & which are common to the arcks of the zodiac, (which arcks are particles of the four quarters of the said zodiac, and do begin at the Equinoctial points, and Solstists:) for our intent is not particularly to discourse of every thing that Astronomers teach concerning the sphere, and which cannot be understood, but by demonstration of the material sphere, or by the figures placed in their books, which it is necessary to mark diligently to conceive this part of the Mathematics. But we will here summarily and grossly run over the most notable points required for our instruction in the universal description of the whole world, and of the most noble things which come to pass here below by reason of the prime and universal motion of heaven. Yet may we not step out of this matter without considering in the ascensions and discensions of the sun, that is, concerning every degree of his way; which is the Zodiac, the oriental and occidental latitude of him; and which he obtaineth from degree to degree in the Zodiac, either in rising above, or descending under the Horizon. But for the other planets or fixed stars, no mention is made of them concerning this point. 
Of the latitude of the sun.  It is then most manifest by that which we have already heard, that the intersections of the right or obliqne Horizon, with the Equinoctial & vertical circle, which divideth the Meridian at right angles, are in the midst & equally distant between the intersections of the said Horizon, & of the Meridian, and that they design the points of the true east & west. And because that the Zodiac declineth from the Equinoctial partly towards the pole arctic, and partly towards the antarctic: the sun doth not rise in the true point of east, nor set in the direct point of west, but when it is upon the Equinoctial points, which are the intersections of the Zodiac and Equinoctial. For while the sun is in the north part of the Zodiac, he riseth and setteth on the north side; and when he is in the south part, he riseth and setteth on the south side: and that in divers distances from the true east and west, according as the true place of the sun declineth more or less from the Equinoctial. The ark then of the Horizon, which is between the true east and the centre of the body of the sun, when it is come to the eastern part of the Horizon, is called the oriental latitude of the sun, and that which is comprised between the direct west, and that same centre when it is in the west part of the Horizon, is called the occidental latitude of the sun. As also the latitude of the stars is taken from the Zodiac, towards the one or other pole thereof. For all stars both fixed and wandering, hold their longitude and latitude of the Zodiac, as of the Equinoctial their declinations, ascensions and descensions. So that the latitude of the sun both oriental and occidental, is necessarily northerly one half of the year, and the other half it is southerly. And likewise the oriental latitude is equal to the occidental in one day. And because the variation of each latitude proceedeth of the diversity of the suns declinations, they are therefore such on the septentrional part, as on the meridional. Consequently you must note; that in the right sphere, the foresaid oriental or occidental latitude, is such without difference, as is the declination of the sun: because the right Horizon passeth by the poles of the world, and showeth both the one and other. But in the obliqne sphere those latitudes are greater, than the declinations of the sun: and so much the greater and more different, as the pole of the world is elevated above the obliqne Horizon, and the place of the sun declineth from the Equinoctial. So that the greatest are those of the solstists, which do most decline from the Equinoctial: and besides these, there are four points in the Zodiac, which have equal latitude both oriental and occidental; that is, two on the north side, and two on the south side. But thus much may suffice concerning this matter, for our purpose. And that we may not swerver from the substance of our former discourse, it will be good for us to entreat of the days, both natural and artificial, which are caused by the prime and regular motion of the whole sphere, with the nights likewise, as you (ARAM) can manifest unto us.   

Of the natural and artificial days, and of the nights, of their diversity and cause. Chap. 23.  ARAM. 
AMongst the most excellent and note-woorthie things, which depend upon the first and universal motion of the whole heaven, and upon that which hath been expounded in our forepast talk; there appeareth next to be handled the understanding of the greatness and quantity of the days, and the parts of them, called hours; as also of the heights of the sun above the Horizon, and of the shadows as well right as obliqne. Beginning then with the days, you must note, that some are called natural, some artificial days, which with us are named properly days, though indeed they be but parts of natural days, and so of nights. 
Of natural days.  Now the natural day is nothing but the time of the entire revolution of the body of the sun about the world, made by the natural and proper motion of the universal sphere: which revolution must always begin at the Meridian circle, and comprehend the time, which is from one noon till the next ensuing. But because the sun this while goeth contrary in his own peculiar course; the point of the Equinoctial, which is under the Meridian with the sun, performeth his revolution sooner than the sun itself. Wherefore you must add to the entire revolution of the Equinoctial, the ascension being taken in the right sphere, from the part of the Zodiac, which the sun hath passed that while, to have the entire revolution of the sun, and the true measure of the natural day. For all accidents of ascensions, which happen in the right Horizon, are common to every Meridian circle in the right or obliqne sphere: whereupon ensueth, that the true natural days are unequal one to another, both because of the proper motions of the sun, as also because of the said ascensions taken in the right sphere. For the sun by reason of the obliquenes of the Zodiac declining on either side from the Equinoctial (which only is the measure of time) is irregular in his own proper motion, and performeth not every natural day a degree precisely, but sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. And though it should make a degree just, yet would not the ascension in the right sphere be equal. For these causes then, the true natural days are unequal. But this inequality is scarcely to be perceived by vulgar judgement and sensible observation. Moreover it is to be understood, that forasmuch as the motions of the planets, and the middle conjunctions and oppositions of the sun & moon, cannot be reduced into tables nor calculated, but by equal days, and even revolutions of times: there must be assumed for this cause, certain natural days, one like always to another, which are called middle, or mean days, containing each the entire revolution of 360. degrees of the Equinoctial, and above that 59 minutes, and almost eight seconds of a degree: Which make up the quantity of the regular and middle motion of the sun, correspondent to one of the said even and mean natural days, according to which days the tables of the foresaid motions are composed and calculated. And by this means the proposed term of an entire year is reduced into true natural days: which of Astronomers is called the Equation of the days.  

Of artificial days, and nights.  For the artificial day; thereby is understood that part of the natural day, which the sun maketh passing from the east by south to the west, through the proper and universal motion of the whole world: During which time, the sun illuminateth the superior part of the Horizon; for which occasion, the said part of the natural day is properly termed day. And that which remaineth thereof, being comprised between the west to the east passage of the sun, is named night: during which time the shadow of the earth is above the said Horizon in form of a round Pyramid, which doth then deprive that superior part of the light and shining of the sun, whereby the darkness is caused, which is called night. And also the two twylights, that is, 
Of the twylights.  the clearness which we see before sun rising, and after sun setting, are parts of the night. For the true artificial day beginneth, when the sun is in the east part of the Horizon; and endeth, when he passeth to the west. And these days and nights are called artificial, because that according to the divers and artificial situation of the sphere, and according to the true place of the sun in the zodiac, they do differ in quantity one from another. To understand which variety you must know, 
Of the diversity of the days and nights.  that in all artificial days, of what length soever they be, there rise above the Horizon six signs of the zodiac, beginning at the true place of the sun; and the other six signs which begin at the opposite point do rise in the night time: because that the zodiac and Horizon are great circles of the sphere, which do always divide one another equally. And according as with the six elevated signs, by day or night, any part or quantity of the Equinoctial doth arise above the Horizon, either more or less; by so much the artificial days and nights are of shorter or longer continuance: so that the ascension of the elevated signs by day, is the true measure of the artificial day, and the ascension of the other elevated signs by night is the measure thereof. Because then, that in the right sphere, together with the moiety or one half of the zodiac, wheresoever it begin, the moiety of the equinoctial doth precisely rise above the Horizon; for this cause therefore the artificial days are equal to the nights in the said right sphere. So that all the revolutions of natural days comprised between the two tropics, are divided by the right Horizon into two just halves, and at right angles like the Equinoctial. But in the obliqne sphere the days are never equal to the nights but twice a year, that is, when the sun is in the first point of the sign of Aries and of Libra: which points are for this reason called the two Equinoctial points. For in the obliqne sphere, there are but the two halves of the Zodiac, comprised betwixt the said Equinoctial points, which may have equal ascensions; because that the two Colours do never agree with the Horizon, which cannot divide the zodiac and Equinoctial also into two equal parts together, except in the same Equinoctial points. Whereof the one is never with the Horizon without the other; because the said greater circles, are in them divided into two exact halves. But out of these Equinoctial points, while the sun is in that half of the zodiac, that declineth from the Equinoctial towards the Pole, which is elevated above the Horizon, that is, from the vernall-Equinoctiall-point, by the Sommer-Solstist to the Autumne-Equinoctiall-point, the artificial days are longer than the nights. And during the time that the sun is in the other part of the said zodiac, which declineth towards the opposite Pole, which is depressed under the said Horizon, the nights are longer than the days: which inequality is so much the more, by how much the sun is nearer to the Solstists, and the sphere is more obliquely placed in respect of the Horizon. So that the artificial days increase from the winter-Solstist, by the Vernall-equinoctial-point to the summer Solstist; & do decrease from the same by the Autumne-Equinoctial-point, to the winter-Solstist. I do not here particularise the diversity of days, which cometh to pass all the year long from degree to degree, being a thing little necessary for the substance of our discourse, and which they may easily learn, that will study upon the Astronomical sphere: But that we may finish this day without going from our spherical matter; let us speak somewhat concerning the hours of the day and heights of the sun, and of his shadows; the declaration whereof I commit (ACHITOB) to you.   

Of equal and unequal, temporal and artificial hours of the heights of the sun above the Horizon, and of his right and reverse shadows. Chapter 24.  ACHITOB. 
Having entreated of natural and artificial days, it now resteth that we say somewhat concerning the parts of them, which are called hours. Even as then there are two principal and great circles in the sphere, the zodiac and the Equinoctial: so likewise are there two manner of hours: one sort are equal and natural, taken from the Equinoctial, the other unequal, temporal or artificial derived from the zodiac. 
Of equal hours.  Equal hours are spaces of time measured by the ascension or revolution of one half sign: that is, of 15. degrees of the Equinoctial. For time must be divided according to this circle, which is the measure thereof. And though the Equinoctial be first divided, as every other circle, into twelve equal parts, called signs, and each of those into thirty degrees like the zodiac: yet nevertheless, because that each sign demandeth more time to be elevated above the Horizon, than the facility of distinction and supputation of time requireth, therefore is every sign divided into two equal parts. And so in the whole revolution of the Equinoctial are 24. half signs of 15. degrees a piece, which make the distinctions and measures of 24. hours, divided by the hower-circles, whereof we have heretofore spoken. Which hours we call equal, as well by reason of the equality of the 24. half signs, as also because that one requireth no more time to be elevated above the Horizon, than the other. And for that the Equinoctial is the measure of the regular and natural motion of the whole world, and that every sign is measured naturally and commonly by the said equal hours, they are therefore called natural and common hours. We must know then, that the sun maketh his entire revolution about the earth, between one noon and the next following, according to the natural days in 24. hours, and one fifteenth part of an hour: because the same revolution comprehendeth the whole Equinoctial (which is the measure of 24. hours) and 59 minutes, and 8. seconds beside, which are almost one degree, which is the fifteenth part of the measure of one equal hour.  
Concerning unequal hours, 
Of unequal hours.  they are referred to the zodiac, being in number 24. that is, twelve of the artificial day, and twelve of night. And the day-howers begin at sun-rising, and those of night at sunset. And they be all unequal one to another, whereby they have their name. Which that we may well understand, we must note, that in all artificial days and nights, of what quantity soever they be, there riseth above the Horizon one half of the zodiac, comprehending six signs, which begin in day at that degree, where the sun is; and at night in that degree, which is diametrally opposite: And thus there are elevated by day twelve half signs, & as many by night. And as one half sign of the Equinoctial maketh the space of an even hour; so one half sign of the zodiac maketh the space of an unequal hour. Whereby appeareth that in each day and night there are twelve unequal hours in the day, and twelve in the night. And that these hours must be unequal one to another, it appeareth in this, because that the zodiac, by reason of the obliquenes thereof, cannot be the measure of time, but the Equinoctial only. Wherefore it is necessary that the time of the said hours should be measured by the arcks of the Equinoctial coascending above the Horizon, together with every half sign of the zodiac containing fifteen degrees. And for that the arcks of the zodiac, which are equal, cannot have equal ascensions, even in the right sphere: it is necessary that the said twelve hours both of day and night should be unequal one to another; and by so much the more unequal, by how much more the Pole is elevated above the Horizon, according to the diversity of the artificial days and nights: whereof they likewise are called artificial hours. They are also named Planetary and temporal, for that they are taken in the way of the planets, which is the zodiac; and also because the ancients have assigned the time of the seven natural days of the week, to the domination of the seven planets, attributed to the said unequal hours: and have appointed to the said natural days, the names of those planets which reign, the first unequal hour of the artificial day. But leaving this discourse, we must now entreat of the altitudes of the sun, and of his shadows, according as hath been declared in our antecedent speech.  
That we may better than understand the reason of shadows, we must first have knowledge of the altitudes of the sun above the Horizon: because that the diversity of shadows proceedeth from the variety of those heights. 
Of the heights of the sun.  Now by the height of the sun is understood the ark of the vertical circle, which passeth by the centre of the body of the same sun, being comprised between the same centre and the Horizon, and distinguished by the parallel of the same Horizon, which passeth together with the same centre, as heretofore hath been related. So that the height of the sun increaseth from sun rising till noon, and proportionally decreaseth from noon till sun set. So that the greatest altitude that the sun may have in an artificial day, is at the noon hour: wherefore it is called the Meridian altitude. Which surmounteth the height of the Equinoctial in the obliqne sphere, by the quantity of the declination of the sun, so long time as he is in that part of the zodiac, inclining towards the pole, which is elevated above the Horizon: and is less than the height of the Equinoctial, by the same quantity, when the sun is in the other moiety of the zodiac, which inclineth towards the opposite pole. So that the least altitude that the sun may have, is under the winter solstice, and the greatest is when he is in the summer solstice. But the sun being in the Equinoctial points, his Meridian altitude differeth not in the obliqne sphere, from the height of the Equinoctial. Whereupon ensueth, that in all the degrees of the zodiac, which are alike distant from the one or other solstice, the sun hath lemma self-same Meridian altitude. And thereupon ensueth, that in all hours, whereof the one is before noon, and the other after, and equally distant from noon; as are ten a clock in the morning, and two a clock after noon, the sun hath lemma self-same altitude: which is the cause, that in all sun dials, being composed by help of the said hours, as the old quadrants are, the hower-spaces serve indifferently as well for before, as after noon. And because that the altitudes of the sun vary according to the obliquenes of the sphere, the said sun dials cannot serve generally, but only to that polarie elevation, whereunto the altitudes of the sun have been calculated. Concerning shadows, they are made by mean of solid-darke bodies exposed against the sun: 
Of right reverse shadow.  And of those some are called right shadows, and some reverse shadows. The right shadow is that which is caused by interposition of the shadowing body, rightly erected upon the Horizon: and the reverse shadow is that, which proceedeth from every shadowing body, equally distant from the said Horizon. So that the right shadow reacheth out at length upon the horizontal superficies: and the reverse shadow is turned over perpendicularly above the said Horizon. Whereby it is manifest, that right shadows are infinite, and reverse none at all, either at sun rising, or sun set. Again right shadows decrease by little and little from sun rising till noon; and do proportionally increase from noon till sun set: to which the reverse shadows are contrary. So that the least right shadow, and the greatest reverse shadow that can be in any day whatsoever, is at noontide. And you must note, that the sun being elevated above the Horizon more than 45. degrees, every shadowing body being directly erected upon the said Horizon, surmounteth his right shadow; but every reverse shadow surpasseth his shadowing body which causeth it. And when the sun is raised less than 45. degrees, the contrary cometh; for the right shadow exceedeth his shadowing body, and the shadowing body surpasseth the reverse shadow. But if the sun be precisely 45. degrees high, than all shadowing bodies are equal to their shadows both right and reverse. From which equality is extracted the Geometrical square, which is set in quadrants, or upon the back of the astrolabe, by which are measured (by means of the shadows, or visual lines, representing the said shadows) all lengths, heights and depths, by reason that the two sides of the said square, which meet at right angles in the centre of the instrument, represent two shadows one equal to another. Yet Geographers do commonly use but right Meridian shadows, to know in what part of the world the regions of the earth consist: and how far they decline from the Equinoctial: which shadows do vary less about the Solstists, then about the Equinoctial points, like to the altitudes of the sun. But we have said enough concerning this matter: and to morrow we will prosecute our first discourse concerning the celestial world, now entreating of the substance and nature of heaven, and of the particular effects of the spherical bodies in things here below, whereof you (ASER) shall begin to discourse.   
The end of the third days work.   

THE FOURTH DAYS WORK.  

Of the substance and nature of heaven, and of the celestial bodies: and of their continuance and change. Chap. 25.  ASER. 
BEing this day to entreat of the substance and nature of heaven, and of the particular effects of the spherical bodies in things here below; we shall make more easy entrance thereto, if we first begin with some brief consideration concerning all essences. First then will we propound this principle, that among all creatures in heaven and earth, some are spiritual, and the rest corporal. By the spiritual we mean those that have no body, and cannot be perceived by corporal senses (as are angels, or devils, and the souls or spirits of men:) And by the corporal, we mean all other creatures, that are visible and sensible to the senses of our bodies. Now of these, some are without life, 
Division of all essences, or natures.  and the rest live. And amongst those which are without life, there is a difference in two points: One is, in that some have natural motion, and the rest have not. And amongst those which have this motion, some are mutable and corruptible, and subject to change, and the rest are immutable & incorruptible, persisting always in their estate, during the course of this world. Stones, metals, minerals and such like creatures, are of the number of those that have neither life, nor any natural moving whatsoever, but like the earth itself. The water, air, wind, and fire are creatures, which though they have not life, yet have they moving: but they are subject unto corruption, as are all other creatures composed of the elements, whether they retain life, or not. For by reason that they are compounded of matters and contrary qualities, they do at length corrupt and are changed, not in regard of their first nature and substance, which perisheth not, 
Nothing perisheth in regard of the matter.  though it change forms, but returneth always into the same elements, whereof every compound consisteth. And though stones and metals be exceeding hard, yet are they not exempt from corruption, but are consumed by usage, yea even gold and silver, which are the most precious metals and of so excellent temper, that they resist fire. But the celestial bodies, whereof we entreat now, consist of such matter, nature and substance; that being in perpetual motion, they ever persevere in their entire and first form, not being subject to any change in their bodies, nor any way consuming, like to the other creatures, winch are under them.  

Of the matter or substance of heaven.  But what this matter or substance is, hath been much disputed on amongst the most learned. For some Philosophers have affirmed, that the heavens, stars, and planets which we behold, are compounded of the same elements, whereof all other creatures are made; but yet of the most pure parts and portions of them: And render this reason (viz.) that they could not be visible, if they were not created of visible matter. For none can make a visible thing of an invisible. Whereupon they conclude, that there is in the composition of celestial bodies some portion of earth and water which are visible elements, and more water than earth, because it is more pure and clear then the earth is, and because it hath motion. And in that they are most splendent, clear and movable, they attribute the principal cause thereof to the nature of the air and fire, and the most subtle parts of them, whereof (say they) they are singularly composed. But others hold, that the heavens consist of another kind of substance, then of the elements, which they name a fift-essence, of most rare and different substance from the elementary, and much more excellent and noble. Others more cunning find in the heavens divers and unequal substances. Whereto may seem to accord that which Americus Vespucius hath declared in the discourse of his third Navigation to the Indies, concerning the magnitude of the stars, making mention of three very great ones, called (Caponi) which are not clear. And many other authors have noted diversity of shining and clearness among the stars, and that some part of heaven is thicker than the rest. But whatsoever may be subtly invented in this matter, it seemeth very well, that heat is the substance of celestial bodies, which is inseparable from brightness, 
Of heat, light and brightness.  which is a similitude and semblance of light, having the substance of it and of heat so annexed with itself, that it is almost nothing else. So that the light, brightness & heat may be taken for one self same substance and matter of heaven, and of all the spheres. Which we must moreover note to be so established and ordained by God, that the Sun, Moon, and all the other stars and planets are no whit changed since the day of their creation, any more than their said spheres: neither are they more wearied, worn, 
Of the continuance and changing of the heavens.  or corrupted, for all the labour which they have performed by the space of so many years, than they were the first day of their creation. For you must not hold it for a change and alteration of their natures and qualities; in that according to their divers courses, the stars and planets are sometimes far from, and sometimes near to one another: and that they have oppositions, conjunctions, and divers and different respects, according to the variety of their motions: nor yet for the eclipses of the Sun and Moon: For such changes are not in their proper bodies, substance and quality, but only in regard of us, and our sight.  
But to this constancy, stableness and continuance of the heavens and the celestial bodies, the words of the kingly Prophet in the Psalms may seem to be repugnant, 
Psal. 102.  when he saith [Thou (O God) hast aforetime laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of thine hands. They shall perish, but thou shalt endure: even they all shall wax old as doth a garment: as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed. But thou art the same, and thy years shall not fail.] Also it is written, 
Math. 24. 2. Pet. 3.  that the heavens and earth shall pass: That the day of the Lord shall come like a Thief in the night, and in which the heavens must pass away like a noise of a tempest; the elements must melt with heat, and the earth with all the works that are therein, shall be burnt: That the heavens being set one fire shall be dissolved, 
Esay. 65. & 66. Apoc. 21.  and that we look for new heavens and new earth, according to the promise of God: in whom dwelleth righteousness. All these testimonies yet, do not contradict that which we heretofore said concerning the nature of the celestial bodies. For we refer their stability and continuance to the course of all this great world, which God hath ordained and established to endure, till the consummation and ending thereof; in such sort, as he hath declared to us in his word. Moreover, it is one thing to speak of the heavens comparing their nature with that of other visible and corporal creatures; and another thing, when we compare them with the nature of God or of his word, as the holy Scripture commonly doth. 
Psal 90.  For according to the doctrine thereof, a thousand years are as one day before God: wherefore also this visible frame, both celestial & terrestrial, is nothing else, but as a vesture which weareth, waxeth old & is clean done, after that it is worn all out. And sith that both heaven and earth are created by the word of God; 
john. 1.  there is no doubt, but they shall fail rather than it. For it remaineth for ever like God, from whom it proceedeth from all eternity. There is yet diversity of opinions amongst the ancient doctors about the understanding of the holy Scripture, concerning the matter which we do now treat of. For some indeed say, that the heavens shall perish with the rest of the world; if it so please the creator, and if he will have it so; considering that all creatures, both visible and invisible receive their essence and continuance, not from themselves, but from God alone: Yet for all that do they not think that the heavens shall altogether fail, nor that God will have it so. And others maintain that though the heavens must pass and be dissolved according to the word of God; that yet this defect shall not be an entire annihilating, but only a certain change which shall come to them, by which they shall be renewed in far more perfection. Whereto it seemeth that Saint Paul agreeth, 
Rom. 8.  when he clearly testifieth concerning all creatures in general, that they are subject to corruption because of the sin of man: and for that cause they do attend with great desire for the revelation and redemption of the children of God: because they shall not be relieved nor delivered from the servitude of corruption, to be in the liberty of the glory of them, and restored to their integrity, till the day ordained by the creator, for the acceptation of his into eternal felicity. For thereupon ensueth, that the heavens and celestial bodies sigh and groan, attending together with the other creatures, this blessed day to be changed, renewed & restored, which S. Peter likewise teacheth in the place before cited. Yea & some philosopher's accord with him concerning the dissolution of the world by fire, but not concerning the cause thereof. For they refer it not to the sin of man, which hath infected the heaven, the earth, and all things contained therein; and put the world into disorder and confusion: but to the nature of fire, which at last consumeth all, and whereof they give a reason by natural causes. There are also some Astronomers, who affirm, that some change may be perceived in the spheres and heavenly bodies concerning their courses and ordinary motions, and that they are somewhat different from those which they have had from the beginning: how they wax weary, are worn, and become old in their function, like to other creatures: although this change doth much less appear in them, then in the other works of God: but we will leave this argument to the professors of Astrology. And let it suffice us, for conclusion of this matter, to consider what the stability and continuance of men in this world may be, seeing that all other creatures must receive a change, and have an end, yea the very heavens themselves. For what are all people in respect of this great universe? And again, what is every one of them particularly, in comparison of the generality of mankind, and of all those which have already gone before us? But let us return to that which concerneth the heavens and spherical bodies, considering that which doth touch their motions, besides that which hath been already declared, which (AMANA) shall be the subject for you to discourse upon.   

Of the motions in general of their first cause, and of their union in all nature. Chapter 26.  AMANA. 
Ear we enter into the declaration of the subject, which is now propounded unto us to discourse upon concerning heaven, my desire is, that we may call to our memory that which we have already heretofore heard of the nature of the heavens, concerning the matter whereof they are compounded, and concerning their beauty, stability, and continuance. For so shall we reduce the end of our discourse to that principal point, whereunto we have already from the beginning destinated it; that is, so much the better to acknowledge our God, and his providence, to the end to glorify him. I say then, that if we considerately meditate upon the excellency of the celestial bodies, we shall therein find a more express image of the eternity and majesty of God, and of his divine and immutable nature, then in any of all the other visible creatures. Moreover we may accept of them as a testimony and example, not only of the immortality which God hath ordained for men's souls, which are spiritual natures: but also of that which he hath promised our bodies after our resurrection. For that he can accomplish his promise, we neither may nor must make doubt of, if we believe that he is almighty: No more must we make doubt of his will, sith he hath declared it unto us in his word. If then he hath been able to create the heavens, and the stars and planets, which in them are, like splendent precious stones enchased in rings, of a matter so firm and durable, that it remaineth incorruptible, and as it were immortal, whether it be taken from the four elements, or be of an other quint-essence, as we have already heard: It shall be no less easy for him to make our bodies incorruptible and immortal, having delivered them from corruption and death, to which (through sin) they were subject. Now let us pursue that which particularly concerneth the heaven in his motion, wherein we have notable signs of the glory and bounty of our God.  

Three sorts of motion.  To understand then sufficiently that which concerneth the present matter, we will first note, that there be three sorts of motion in the whole world. For there is one which tendeth to the midst and to the centre of the universe, which is in the earth the lowest of elements: which motion for that it descendeth, is proper to the most heavy elements, and to such creatures as do most participate with them. Then is there another motion contrary to the first, which always tendeth from the midst, and from below upwards: and this is proper to the most light elements, and to those natures which do nearest approach unto them, and which participate with their qualities more than the rest. But the third kind of motion is that, which neither mounteth nor descendeth either one way or other, but goeth round, ever turning about the midst like a circle or a wheel. And this is that which is proper to heaven, and to the spherical bodies, being most certain, disposed, and composed by a most constant and firm order. For though that all the elements, and all other creatures which have motion, observe an order therein, yet is it more subject to change, according as the inferior bodies are subject to the superior. But those have a more certain course, because they depend not upon other bodies, which are above them, but immediately upon God, without the means of any other corporal nature. And therefore of all the motions, which are in all creatures, that of the heaven and heavenly bodies is chiefest and most excellent. 
Of the motion of the spheres attributed to the angels.  For whereas some attribute the motions of the spheres to the angels, as if God used their ministery herein (as we have already declared) whether it be so or not, yet this is most certain, that the heavens have their motion immediately from God, seeing there are no corporal natures above them, whereby they may be moved. For the angels are certain spiritual creatures, on whom if the omnipotent hath imposed this charge, we must be content to leave the understanding thereof to him alone, sith it is so much hidden from man. Now in that the celestial bodies, and the elements, and all creatures have their proper motion, wherein they continue according to the first ordinance established in nature by the sovereign creator thereof; we are much to admire both the cause and effects of such a constancy. I intent here to speak of a near cause, which is a secret amity engraffed into every creature toward his own nature. For there is a love, 
Every creature followeth his own nature.  an appetite or universal inclination in all creatures, which urgeth and inciteth them to desire and search that which agreeth with their nature: so that there is none so insensible, which hath not in itself this amity innate, which ever pusheth it to follow the nature thereof: and for this cause may we say, that all motions proceed from love. And passing further, we may contemplate the love of God, as the eternal source of amity and inclination of all nature, and as the first cause of causes: and we shall say, that in the same love, God loving himself, proceeded to his work, which hitherto we have celebrated, and do now mean to prosecute. For sith that God is the sovereign good, & that all goodness is by nature loving, it cannot be but he must likewise love himself exceedingly, and consequently love all that which he judgeth to be good, insomuch as it proceedeth from him, who is the supreme good, and the limit of all goodness. This love than not being able to be idle, 
The love of God is the first of all motions.  nor yet the good which it loved, would manifest both the one and the other, first in the creation of the world; namely in that of man; and then again in the restoration and reparation of his fall. So we learn, that the first motion, whereupon all the rest depend, is the love of God, which proceedeth from his bounty, which he would not keep shut up nor enclosed in himself, but would manifest and communicate it with his creatures, whom he hath created, to the end that he might be glorified in them and by them. And as he loveth them for his own loves sake, and for that they were his work: so hath he set in them the seeds of love, both towards him and towards themselves, according to the divers nature, which he hath conferred upon them. It is then this natural love, which constraineth them by a secret feeling of nature imprinted even in those essences, which have neither reason nor understanding, to take delight in that, which is agreeable to their creator, and to follow his ordinance, tending all to him, and to that which he loveth, because it is good, and therefore good, being done according to his will; and because it pleaseth him to judge it and approve it for such. Whereupon we may conclude, that love and amity is the good, by which all creatures have an accord and agreement, first with God their creator, and then one with another: and that upon the same cause their conservation and perfection doth depend. 
Of the union and accord between all creatures.  Wherefore love must be the bond and union of all the world, which is an universal peace and concord between God and all his creatures. For the divine providence hath so disposed all the order of them, that they be all conjoined one with another, by such love and amity, that even they, which seem to be clean contrary, are allied, reconciled and united together by those, which have more correspondency between them. In such sort that we may therein behold, a very pleasant and perfect harmony, like as in music; wherein although it seemeth that the notes, tunes, and sounds be different one to another; yet notwithstanding, there is such a moderation in them, that they yield together a goodly concord and sweet melody, keeping their proportions, times and measures. As then by such peace and concord the celestial spheres follow the general and common course of the first, highest, and greatest of all, within which they are contained and enclosed; performing likewise each of them his particular course, without endommaging themselves, as we have heretofore made mention: so do all the elements follow the heaven, and observe their order after it, every one in their degree, from the highest to the lowest, having their motions agreeable to their nature. And even as living creatures have their agreements and conjunctions one with another, every one in his degree, according to the covenant and participation of nature, which they have together, and as they are either near to, or far off one from another: even so is it in the agreement and consent of nature, which is between the celestial bodies and the elements, and all creatures composed of them. For this cause, as the angels retain the first degree among living creatures, and then man the second next them, by reason that in his nature he nearest agreeth with the angels, and doth nearest approach them: so doth the heaven and celestial fires retain the first degree among creatures, which are without soul and without life, in their proper and convenient motions, according as we have already declared. And as man doth in some sort hold the middle place between the angels and the most perfect beasts; so doth fire betwixt the heaven and the air: and as the air doth keep the middle place betwixt the fire and water; so the water is a mean betwixt the air and the earth. But these things will claim a fit place, when we come to entreat of the elementary world. Wherefore we will return to that which only concerneth the heavenly bodies: which forsomuch as we have said to be of the number of those creatures which are without life, being contrary to the opinion of the most famous philosophers: my mind is, that we should consider nearer of this matter; because that by the excellent political and military order, which is amongst them, it seemeth that they are not altogether deprived of life, reason, and understanding: as (ARAM) we may learn of you.   

Of the life, reason, and understanding of the celestial bodies: and of the excellent political and military order, which is amongst them. Chap. 27.  ARAM. 
THis being true, that all creatures have a certain motion agreeable to their nature, and a natural love which ever urgeth them to seek and pursue that, which is most natural for them; as hath been already related in our antecedent speech: it seemeth that this can hardly come to pass, but that there must be in them, some kind of soul and life, yea even in those creatures, that are most insensible. And more I will say, that it is not only to be presumed, that they have some kind of life, but also a natural understanding, which we may properly name inclination; sith there is no essence but can follow his proper course and order in his own nature and peculiar motions. For the stones themselves, and metals by a kind of soul and vegetative life, do grow and increase in the earth: wherefore it seemeth that they are nourished in the earth like to plants. Yet we must note, that to speak properly, there is neither soul nor life attributed unto them. 
Four kinds of soul, and life.  For according to the common rule of the learned, there are but four kinds of souls, & of life: except by abuse of the language this name life be taken generally for the estate of all creatures. But when it is taken in his proper signification, the soul and life is only attributed to four kinds of creatures: 
A kind of creature of a middle nature between plants and beasts.  that is, to herbs, trees, and plants, a nourishing or vegetative soul and life: to * sensitive plants, as sea-sponges, oysters, cockles, etc. a sensitive: to perfect beasts a soul and life cogitative or knowing: and to men an intellectual or reasonable soul and life. Though therefore that stones and metals do increase and grow in the earth, yet this is done by addition of matter, which is converted into their nature, rather than by any nurture which they draw from the earth, as plants do. And therefore when we speak properly of life, we must understand something more, then that which we simply call [being.] And yet one may sometimes signify (the estate or being of any thing) by the name of life, taking the word generally, and not in his most proper signification: for the being of every creature is like the life thereof; insomuch as thereby it is conserved in his proper estate. 
john. 1.  And so it may seem that Saint john meaneth, saying, That all things were made by the eternal word of God, and that without it nothing was made that was made, and that in it was life: for here the word, Life, might be taken for the being of all creatures. In this respect it may be permitted us to say, that all creatures have life, but not like any of those, which are properly called living creatures, and each one according to the distinctions by us before alleged.  

Understanding proper to men and angels only.  Now let us speak of the natural understanding, which seemeth to be in all creatures. I know that to speak properly, understanding and reason cannot be attributed but only to angels and men. For though all creatures observe their order and course in their natural motions: yet do we not conclude that they do this by understanding and reason, whereof they should participate with men, but rather by a natural inclination, which God hath bestowed upon them to guide and direct them so. Yet it seemeth, that there is great difference between the celestial bodies, concerning which we now discourse, and the other creatures which are without life and understanding, considering their well ordered motions and incorruptible nature, as we have heretofore showed. For this is the cause why many Philosophers have taught; 
Opinions of divers touching the life and understanding of the celestial bodies.  that the heavens retained some kind of life and understanding: briefly, that the world was an animal or living creature, for the reasons heretofore alleged. And therefore some have supposed, that the celestial and luminary bodies did nourish and preserve themselves by the moistness and vapours, which they attracted and drew up by their heat, out of the water and other elements. And for faculties of sense and reason, they also considered the same to be in them; because that they have their course and motions so well ordered and comprehended one by another, that therein can be found no fault, disorder, or confusion. Which so excellent order could not be kept nor maintained (it seemed) amongst them, without great reason, understanding, and wisdom, yea more great than is seen in all the men of the world together. For although they were created partakers of these graces and gifts; yet so far are they from maintaining such an order amongst them, as do the celestial bodies; that contrariwise there is nothing but disorder and confusion in them, and in all their actions. For these reasons therefore sundry Philosophers have concluded, that as there are animals or living creatures in the earth, in the waters, and in the air, so likewise are there in heaven; and that the sun and moon & the other planets and stars are celestial animals, not only living, but also participating of reason and understanding: 
Of the excellent political and military order in the heavens.  yea some have named them celestial intelligences. And in truth they which have good skill in Astronomy do consider how the Sun, the goodliest and most excellent of the lights of heaven, possesseth the middle place among the seven planets like the king and prince of them, and which hath about him the lords of his court. For on one side is Mars the warrior, which hath charge of armies; and on the other side Mercury his Orator and ambassador. Then is there betwixt him and Mercury the planet Venus, which is the day star, messenger of the morning, which always attendeth on the sun, at his rising and setting: for she riseth every day before him, and setteth every day after him; and under those is the Moon. These two planets seem to be allowed him like mistresses of his house, and housewives of the most moist natures. Then above Mars is the mild and benign planet jupiter, to the end to moderate the vehemency and fury of him. And higher yet is Saturn, who is cold, slow, and sad; wherefore he may the better temperate the heat of Mars, and serve the sun like a sound and well stayed counsellor, near about his prince. Then may be seen the high heaven, commonly called the firmament, which containeth all the rest of the stars, under which the sun marcheth in his royal magnificence, accompanied (like a king) with his court and army, all in gallant order. Is not this then a goodly policy, & like a royal court, a celestial common wealth, and a brave army, wherein every star and planet keepeth his rank and order? And not only for these considerations, but even by testimonies of Scripture, there are some will undertake to prove, that the celestial bodies have reason and understanding. 
Deut. 32. Isay. 1.  For the prophets, namely Moses and Isay, sometimes addressing their speech to the heavens, call them for auditors: as when they say [Oh heavens, heavens, hear that which I shall speak, and give ear to my words] So that they wonder, why these holy men should call to the heavens, if they had neither soul nor life, 
Psal. 148.  nor reason, nor understanding. And the Psalmist in his canticles doth exhort the heavenly bodies to praise God no less than the angels themselves. But now let us tell them, that if by these authorities we must conclude, that the spheres have in them a soul, life, sense, and reason: we might say the like of the air, of the clouds, waters, fire, hail, snow, vapours, winds, yea and of all earthly creatures, to the very plants. For the royal prophet inviteth them all to praise the Lord, as well as the heavens. Yea he proceedeth farther, when he saith, that all of them perform the word of the Lord. And when Moses and Isay call the heavens to record, they do as much to the earth, as if it had ears to hear, & understanding for to understand. 
Why the word of God is sometimes directed to insensible creatures.  We must then know, that the prophets using this manner of speech, do speak to insensible creatures, and which are without understanding, the better to move men to their duty, and the more to induce them to acknowledge their ingratitude and rebellion against God, by rendering to him that honour and reverence, which they should bear to his Majesty, which is of such weight and virtue, that the very sense and feeling thereof reacheth to all nature and to every kind of creature. Whereby me must learn, how great reproach shall redound to men, and the number of witnesses that shall appear against them, if they will be more deaf at the voice of God, than the deafest creatures, and if they will be less moved with his presence, and hardlier acknowledge it, than those his works which are farthest remote from reason understanding. And in truth what shame may this goodly order which we whilom spoke of, to be amongst the celestial bodies, every day breed in us? For if they had a soul, life, sense, and understanding; we might less wonder to see them ever continue and maintain such a constituted order. Because we might ascribe the good government of them to the reason and wisdom, which might be resident in them. But if they have neither sense nor understanding, by means whereof they might attain to that intelligence & wisdom, for to know how to guide & govern themselves: so much more just occasion hath been given to the prophets to appeal to them as witnesses and judges against men, and leave to look to other creatures, seeing that they show in effect, that they do better understand the voice and word of God, whereby they have been created and disposed, and which hath appointed and ordained the estate wherein they serve; then men do, whom he hath made partakers of reason and understanding. Wherefore we will here note, that when the prophets do exhort the insensible creatures to praise God, it is chief for two reasons. The first is, in keeping every one their order, they glorify God after their fashion, and according to their nature, because they are like preachers of his puissance, wisdom, and bounty, and as witnesses of them, and of his glory towards men: and the other reason is so much the better to induce men to praise their creator, as it behoveth them. But for the Philosophers, yea the Pythagorians & Academics, which proceed farther concerning the life, reason, and understanding, which they contemplate in the spheres, saying, that they are replenished with souls lodged in them, and by which many of our Divines also will have to be meant, the angels and celestial spirits, who (say they) move the heavens: but what, and how many there are of these intellectual forms in the spherical bodies, he only knoweth, 
Psal. 147.  who (as David saith) counteth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by their names. I will only say thus much, that sith every planet hath his proper force and influence upon things here below, it seemeth very fit, that it should have his governing intelligence, which giveth it the virtue to work: considering that the operation cannot proceed simply from a body. But now I enter into a new matter, the discourse whereof (ACHITOB) I impose on you.   

Of the influence and effects of the planets and stars in things here below, either to good or evil. Chapter 28.  ACHITOB. 
SOme might marvel, why christian philosophers do always (when they entreat of the sphere) retain the names of the gods and goddesses of the ancient idolaters; which the Pagan philosophers, both Greeks' and Latins, have long ago given to the stars and planets. 
In French the names of the days are so, but in our tongue not.  But this should seem no more strange, then that we yet observe in the days of the week the names, which were attributed to them by the said authors, and which they have likewise taken from the names of the planets, except sunday. For, because that these celestial bodies have been so called at the first by those, who have most curiously and diligently searched them out, and left precepts of the Astronomical doctrine; therefore do these fond names yet remain amongst us, like many other things taken from the ancients. But the discourse is very great and of deep study, concerning the divers properties, virtues, and powers which Astronomers assign to the planets, above all nature, yea and over all men: of whom making their predictions, they name one man a Saturnist, another a Martialist, or jovialist, or else a Mercurialist, or a Venerean, or a Phebaean, 
Properties attributed by Astrologers to planets.  or a Lunatist. In such sort, that the divers affections, inclinations and manners of men, are by many holden, not to proceed only of the matter diversly disposed (as there be some that esteem:) but also by the divers influence and sundry form, not in specifical diversity, but particular and proper. And thence it cometh, that Ptolemy and other professors of Astrology do teach, that the stars and planets do give influence of good and of evil: for (say they) by Saturn is infused a firm and stable prudence: by jupiter, a righteous justice: by Mars, a constant force and puissance; by the Sun, an ardent charity: by Venus, a mild hope: by Mercury, a penetrating faith: and by the Moon, a moderate temperance. Moreover, that by Saturn, as by a most grave and sublime fautor, men are induced to the most profound mysteries of all divine and natural Philosophy: That by jupiter they are governed in a good & due temper, so that they make & observe laws, and dispose all things with equity, pursuing always that which is righteous. That from Mars they receive the ability and power to perform any exploit, to the end to be fortunate in their enterprises. That the sun bestoweth upon all, generation, operation, and life; as charity (which is appropriated to him) adorneth all the virtues, like life, and form. That Venus giveth grace, cheerfulness, and love; by which men being moved do perform all high matters with delectation; because we could not sustain the labour, which is in the study of natural and divine matters, no not in temporal things, if love did not thereto invite us; wherewith being afterward recreated, we easily suppress the affliction which continual thought in profound matters and of difficult understanding doth bring unto us. That Mercury maketh us prompt, sharp and subtle in every business, but chief in searching out of the truth, and in obtaining eloquence, music, and glory. That the Moon in the foresaid effects of the other planets, giveth a more near and variable motion; so that she causeth to be correspondent to man (as to the end and image of the whole universe) all the lofty members of it. All these properties (I say) are attributed by sundry Astronomers to the planets, in regard of the good which they cause to men. Again, others acknowledge some of them to be the cause of many evils, and those they call ill planets, not celestial. For they say that Saturn is foolish, niggardly, difficult, 
Euilnes of Saturn.  inducing to dangers, fraud, mischief, treasons, violence, captivity, banishment, loss, perjury, contumacy, wrath, hatred of all good, fear, anguish, grief, burials, sorrow and loss of children; also that he causeth sorceries, empoisoning, & theft, & maketh Magicians. Of Mars they say, that he provoketh to treason, war, 
Of Mars.  murder, boldness, rashness, pride, sedition, contention, rapine, ambushments, wound, flights, disloialties, villainies, foolish love, easy offending, many cogitations, ill counsel; and that he maketh princes violent, cruel, inhuman, desirous of blood and slaughter, perjured, deceitful, inconstant, cursing, and full of all wickedness, and that he foreshoweth a misshapen and impudent man: and that he is pernicious to births, causing abortive fruit: Finally, that in all parts of heaven he menaceth some mischief. For the rest, I pass them here in silence, that I may not be too tedious in this matter, which some Mathematicians and Poets ascribe to other planets, making them cause of many other evils, according to the divers constellations, where they do contemplate them. But to speak my mind, we like Christians must believe, and not think as many naturalists do (who in stead of acknowledging a God, do forge to themselves an Idol of Nature, that it should be the planets or stars, who like fountains or Ladies of virtues, properties and powers, give influence to men of the foresaid qualities: but only that in disposing their bodies, being compounded of the elements, upon which the planets work, they serve to aid them to abound in virtues or vices, according as their mind being moderatrix of all their actions, doth dispose her faculties, to intend good or evil. For this cause we say, that to those which want the gifts and graces of God's spirit, all things cannot but succeed badly, and the influences of the spheres hurt them rather than otherwise, yea some more than other some: as to the contrary, the mind of the faithful well instructed doth correct the naughtiness of the stars, & delivereth himself from all perverse inclination. This is it, that the thrice great Philosopher Mercurius saith, entreating of those whom the divine power, whatsoever it was, had forsaken, leaving and abandoning them to the evil (as he speaketh) and all that, which was sensible in them. For thus saith he. [Of such the forces of anger & appetite, which being well directed would cause every good work, turn into a nature deprived of reason.] So then we learn, that very vain is the faith that is given to the planets, to constellations, and to foolish divinations and superstitious prognostications of Astrologians. For true Christians fear not the signs of heaven, nor their aspects and regards: but do wholly depend upon the grace of God and of his providence, which turneth all to the good of his elect.  

Against judicial astrology.  And therefore though we condemn not true Astrology, namely Astronomy, yet must we not approve the superstition and curiosity, which is in many concerning that part of this science, called judicial, which they hold for a certain and infallible doctrine, by which may be foreseen and known the events of men. But let us rather hold with that which jeremy teacheth us, 
jerem. 10.  saying, [Fear not the signs of heaven, according to the gentiles; for the customs of the people are vain.] Which is as much, as if he had said, that such curious observations full of superstitions, are frivolous and false; belonging to pagans and idolaters, and not to the people of God. For this cause also we have in the books of the other prophets many things spoken against the predictions and prognostications of the Chaldees and Babylonians; 
Esay. 47.  namely in Isay. For God, which is above all nature, hath means, which men cannot perfectly know, either by reason of their ignorance, or for that those means are supernatural. So that it happeneth, that things oftentimes succeed clean contrary to that, which the Astronomers have forespoken & prognosticated, 
Against the casters of nativities.  according to their contemplation. But I would willingly ask them, what foundation they can have, when (like prophets) they enterprise to foretell men, good lucks and ill lucks, and all events which they must expect, and chief to kings, princes, and other chief personages? For where do they find, when God created the stars and planets, that he gave them commission to reveal to Astrologers, what should be the nature and complexion of every one, according to the planet under which they should be borne? And again, how can such judicial science have certainty, seeing there are a thousand men that are borne every day in the world, in lemma self-same country, at lemma self-same time, hour and instant, one sometimes to be a king, and another a poor shepherd, being neither like in nature, nor like in manners, but sometimes more contrary than fire and water? For this is much proved in many twins, as the scripture giveth us a notable example in jacob and Esau. For they were borne so close to one another, 
Genes. 25.  that jacob held with his hand the sole of his brother Esau's foot: and therefore the name of jacob was given him. And by how much the one was humble, good and peaceable; by so much the other was proud, wicked and warlike. And who can believe that God hath set marks in any of the signs of heaven, to signify to men that, which he hath ordained concerning every one in his eternal counsel, which is hidden from the angels themselves? Surely whatsoever we can learn, is through his holy spirit, which he communicateth to such as he pleaseth, revealing to them his secrets, as heretofore he did to his most faithful servants. And therefore he that would have most certain prognostications, must not go away to seek and ask them of other more true Astrologians then the prophets and apostles, with their writings. For they have surely foretold all that must come to pass in the world, to the very consummation of time, and chief touching the monarchies, empires, and kingdoms of the earth, namely Daniel. And I believe that God hath not created the stars & planets more for kings & princes & other great personages, than for the simple & least. Too sound & true a prognostication have we against them all in Isay, 
Isay. 60.  by which he prophesieth, that every kingdom & every nation which serveth not the Lord shall perish. So likewise all the blessings and cursings of the law, 
Levit. 26. Deut. 28.  are so many most certain prophecies, of all that which good and bad men may expect for good or evil. Now I could in this present matter, concerning the influence of celestial bodies upon men, produce the testimonies of the most renowned amongst the ancient divines, against those, who attribute so much virtue to the stars: but because the authority of a Christian is of no value with the Atheists and superstitious, which are willingly the greatest idolaters of nature, I will bring them the proof of strangers, yea of those, who first gave the precepts of pronogstications: by which they may easily find their teachings thwarted by themselves; and to have been left otherwise by them, than the troop of their followers do suppose. Let them read the text of Ptolemie, prince of Astronomers, 
Many things to be considered in horoscopes.  in the beginning of his Apotelesmes (which is as much to say, as the effects referred to the nativitie-hower) there shall they see that he attributeth this to the stars, that to the manner of the birth, something to the seed of the parents, one thing to the diet, another to the place, & another to the orders: So that very little resteth in the planets. And the author concludeth his speech in this sort: [As we commend physicians, who search out the original of the disease, and the causes in divers fashions: so must not we be despised, if to judge upon the infant borne, we inquire of the region, of the birth, diet, manners, and other occurrences.] And in his book entitled (Alarba) he saith, That oftentimes such accidents meet in the infant borne, that he cannot receive the celestial influence, sometimes very little, and sometimes much, which many are ignorant of. How then can any by the stars only determine of that, which must happen to man from the hour of his birth, as infinite many do believe? But because some, who are abused by this judicial science, do willingly reply, that Astrologians & prognosticators do oft foretell many things, which are afterward found true: I desire that we may examine their reason, which (ASER) I leave to you to discover.   

Of the truth which is found in prognostications of Astrologers: and how the stars are appointed by God for signs, and that from their influences no evil proceedeth. Chapter 29.  ASER. 
WHo diligently should mark in predictions & astrological prognostications, the falsehoods and truths which therein are found, I doubt not but he should perceive these much more rare, than the other. But people do commonly take so great delight to be deceived, that it sufficeth them, if they be once told truth, for a thousand times wherein they have been foretold lies. And God knoweth, how the professors of this art do advance that point as much as they can, and do dissemble in all others, whereby their leasings may be discovered. And when they will most flout fools, they use ambiguous and obscure manners of speech, like the answers, which long ago the devil made by oracles, both of Apollo, and other pagan-idols. For such kind of speech is fit to strike the ignorant in a dump: who though they understand not the prognosticators speech, yet according as things come to pass, they will expound them to their mind, and chief, when among many things, some one doth stumble upon some like appearance with that prediction, although the ginger speaks at adventure, and sometimes understands not himself: yet this is certain, and is daily seen by experience, that indeed the most cunning in this science foretell many things, which are after found true. And this may happen chief in three manners. The first is, 
How astrologers may foretell a truth.  when they contain themselves within the bounds of Astrology, and will prognosticate nothing, but whereof they foresee the causes most manifest in nature: as in eclipses of the Sun & moon, the changes thereof, in the courses of the planets, their aspects, and dispositions, and such like natural inclinations, the knowledge whereof they may by their art attain unto. But when they pass farther, it happens to them which is sometimes seen in bad archers and bowmen, who though they take their aim badly, neither yet draw right, may nevertheless shoot so often, that by great chance, one or other may hit the white. But this comes not often; for if one should reckon the bad shoots, they would be exceeding few that had hit in respect of the rest. And in this sort have we in the beginning of our speech meant, concerning the copious and ambigious manner of Astrologers writings and speeches, very proper for their intention. Finally God in his secret and most just judgement, doth many times permit that the things foretold by such deceivers do oftentimes succeed, to the intent to punish the curiosity and vanity of men, as it commonly falleth out, and hath in old time been known by the oracles of devils, and by the predictions and divinations of Necromancers and invocators upon evil spirits. For they who rather believe such inventious of the devil, than the true and sacred word of God, deserve to be holden in error, by the events which they expect, when they trust to the father of lying, to the end that they may afterward receive their due and condemnation. So came it to Saul when he went to the witch, 
1. Sam. 28.  to understand the issue and event of the Philistims war against him. For he heard that which he desired not to know; and that which was prophesied to him came to pass. Thus in three manners do we perecive that Astrologers may oftentimes prognosticate the truth. But because some suppose to have a very good foundation for judicial Astrology, in so much as Moses saith; speaking of the creation of the sun and Moon and stars, 
Genes. 1.  that God set them for signs; I would desire them to consider, that the Prophet expoundeth himself in these words, [And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, 
How the stars are given us for signs.  to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and for years: And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth.] Hereby it is apparent to us, that God created the planets to distribute the light, and to distinguish and signify unto us by certain signs the times, seasons, years, months, days and nights, for all political, public and private order. For it is most necessary, that men should direct themselves according to times and seasons. But although the stars were given us for signs in this respect, and that after the deluge they were in that estate reordained by GOD: yet must we abstain from superstition, & too much curiosity which abuseth many in Astrology (as is abovesaid) and which often occasioneth that they not being able to prognosticate upon every cause apparently by the stars, according to their desire, do search and have recourse to other means, to wit, to Necromancy, and Geomancy; by which they divine what they list, leading men unto double error, and phophaning the contemplative doctrine of the heaven, which is otherwise of itself good and profitable.  
But beside all this I might likewise say, that if all things here below were disposed and directed by the governance of heaven, and the influence of the planets, as our naturalists (better Philosophers than Christians) do maintain: we should behold nothing save what were good, as being governed by good causes. And in this case I demand what sold become of those evil influences of the stars, upon which Astrologians do found their predictions? 
Genes. 1.  I will not here allege that which Moses teacheth us, saying, that God saw that all things which he had made were good (for perhaps they would not believe it:) but let them give ear to Mercury, whom the ancients called the thrice great and supreme in Philosophy, Metaphysics, and theology. For he left written upon pillars in Egypt (as jamblicus in a long discourse declareth) how that all influences of the stars are good: 
Against such as assign evil to the influences of the stars.  and if there chance any evil, it must be imputed to the indisposed subject, and not to the planets: demonstrating this by the brightness of the sun, which of itself is good, and yet hurteth the blear eye, because of the bad state thereof. Plato also saith, 
Plato in Epimenide.  [God hath made the Moon increasing and decreasing, and hath established the months in the year, and hath taught by a kind of happy fortune, to bring in count the number of them. Whereupon ensueth, that the earth being most fruitful, conceiveth and engendereth her fruit for the nurture of man, at such times as the winds gently blow, and the rain prosperously droppeth into her lap. But if any evil befall herein, we must not blame the divine and celestial nature but the human, which leadeth an unjust life.] And the Stoic Hieracles crieth out in the verses of Pythagoras in these terms. 
" Each one, through his own evil, ill will be,  
" For from the heavenly source no vice doth slow  
" To soil our souls; the cause are only we,  
" The blame of mischief then on mortals throw.  And Plato in the sixth book of laws, and Aristotle in his Politics do testify, that man having attained to the true doctrine becometh a very divine and perfect debonair creature: but not having been well brought up, he be cometh the most cruel of all creatures borne upon the earth. What then remaineth for us to attribute to the stars? I demand of them also, who affirm some influences to be evil, from whence (will they say) that this malice proceedeth? Whether from God which commandeth: or from the intelligence which moveth the heavens: or from the heaven itself? 
Reasons to show that the influences of the stars be not evil.  Surely it cannot come from God, who is the sovereign good, & the first cause ordaining all things. For that is evil or sin, which is done against the will of the creator, or which declineth from his justness: and in nature, evil cannot proceed from the spring of goodness. Wherefore it should be too foolish and absurd a thing to think, that evil should take original from God all-good: and that from the sovereign governor should proceed the violation of the law, seeing that his will is his own law itself. For the intelligence or angel, which some say continueth in the motion of the spheres, and to whom some assign the cause of evil influences: I would feign ask them, whether this intelligence doth so work by the commandment of his Prince, which is the eternal and sovereign governor of the world, or else against his will and ordinance? If it accomplish any thing according to his precept, certainly that cannot be bad: for nothing is bad but that which is done contrary to the order established by the prince of Nature. But if it operate against his will, it might seem to turn to the scandal of the Omnipotent creator, to suffer his servants so arrogant in rebellion unpunished. For at the beginning he spared not those amongst the angels, who exalted themselves in pride: And for the rest who persisted in obedience, he in such sort confirmed them, that they cannot sin any more. Whereupon also ensueth that the Intelligences, being loyal servants of the Eternal, do not cause evil influences, neither yet do dispose any thing to evil, since they always accomplish the ordinance of the Soveraigne-good. 
Against such as accuse the heavens to be evil.  And for those, who not being able to blame God, nor the moving intelligence, do accuse the heavens, as cause of evil influences: I desire them to tell me; if the heavens be malicious, whence cometh their malice? Whether have they been created evil, or else been depraved by evil manners? Or else, their nature failing them, did they become evil? Certainly they were not created evil by the most good worker. Neither have they been depraved by manners or a failing nature, because they have no choice in their works, and for that their motions and influences are natural and invariable, not of free-will, as all Philosophers affirm. Again I ask them, whether the heavens give influence, as second causes, or as instruments? If as instruments, then sith they neither move nor operate, but according to the will of the Prince, who created them; he should remain in fault: which is already confuted. But if it be as second causes, seeing the work is performed by that which liveth, the error should be referred to the intelligences, who move them, and are ordained for souls to the spheres: to which we have also satisfied. I will farther add this point, That the heavens do work either by nature or by will. If by nature, sith the order thereof is established by God, the sentence of Aristotle is worthy the remembrance, where saith, [What we possess by nature, we are therein neither praised nor blamed: for the praise belongeth to the worker, and the blame cannot be assigned to the order of the sovereign Good.] But if the heavens work freely, being guided by an intelligence, it must needs follow, that being the causes of so many mischiefs, which abundantly light on man, they are guided by a furious, or else by a covetous soul. If by a furious, seeing there is a certain planet, which (as these Astronomers say) doth always design violent influences, wherefore is it not consumed with such a sempiternal fury? Moreover why say men, that a planet is inflamed sooner in one house, then in another? What meeteth it in his own house or in another, that disposeth it to signify evil? Again, how is that inflamed with fury, which they affirm to be immutable? But if the heavens be led by covetousness, what profit or gain do they attract from things here below? For this covetous desire remaineth only in themselves. And whosoever coveteth evil, doth it (as the Philosophers say) because that he is as it were intoxicated and overcome by inebriating matter. But sith the matter of the heavens is far from all change and error, it is neither inebriated nor subverted. Wherewith then will they blame the heavens? If any say that by nature they are evil, 
Reason and original of evil in nature.  how is it, that this evil should come into their nature? For the Sages collect these reasons and original of evil in nature: either for that the efficient cause cannot govern the superfluity of the matter; or else cannot supply where it faileth; or else cannot duly dispose it; and such other reasons, as presuppose a feeble power of the cause. But for as much as the smith and carpenter of the heavens is of infinite power, how should he fail in his workmanship? For there was no other cause which might encounter him, since that without any aid, he framed the heavens; neither could any thing resist the infinite worker, who reduced all things into a due and proper estate, as we have heretofore amply declared. Yet notwithstanding so many reasons, how many are there which obstinately leaning to the vain and curious observations of the stars, as an infallible rule of the life and estate of man, do above all things fear, least in the ascendant of the nativity, any evil planet should have domination? And indeed do we not behold that Astrologers, and above all Magicians, are so much sought after amongst us, that many do (as one may say) hold him to be miserable, who knoweth not his Horoscope? To the end then that we may better expel out of the brain of every one such foolish opinions, let us (I pray you) stretch out this discourse in particular against such as accuse Saturn and Mars for most evil planets: the charge whereof (AMANA) I commit to you.   

Of the Planet Saturn, and how it is not evil, nor any other star. Chapter 30.  AMANA. 
WE shall do very well, if keeping ourselves from the superstition & curiosity, which misguideth many in the study of judicial Astrology and Divination, we stay ourselves in the most simple and most certain Astronomy, which the spirit of God teacheth us by the creation of the world: that is, to contemplate the creator by his works. For so should we become good Astronomers and Christian Astrologers, if (I say) contemplating the heavens, and all the ornament of them, we propose them unto us, as universal preachers of the glory of the Sovereign, and consider them as the high works of his hands, as the Psalmist doth exhort us. 
Psal. 8. & 19  And so by creation of the Sun, Moon, Stars, and other celestial bodies, we shall learn to meditate, what light there is in him, who dwelleth in the inaccessible brightness, and which is the father and fountain of all lights, as also, what good we are to hope for of him. For by that good, which the corporal light bringeth unto us, for our bodies; and the Sun, 
A good, and true use of astronomy.  Moon and Stars, for the life of men, we may somewhat judge, what felicity is prepared by the Divine and spiritual light for our souls, and by God our Creator, in whom it abideth: being a sure means not to fear the signs of heaven, nor the constellations and aspects of the stars, wherewith many do so menace men, as if in heaven, as in a court of tyrants, it were ordained, that so many mischiefs as should happen to the world, should be contrived.  
But let those who so charge the stars of crimes, and therefore turn over the books of Pagan Astrologers, and Atheists, rather than divine writings, lend a while an care to some good witnesses, whom they themselves cannot reprove, and who do even praise the planet of Saturn, the malice of whom we have heard to be so great. Behold then first of all, how the prince of the Astronomical doctrine deposeth and testifieth concerning this planet in these terms: 
Ptol. in 3. apotel. How the planet Saturn is good.  [If Saturn be only signifier in the estate of the mind, and Lord of the place of Mercury, and of the moon, and blazeth towards the corners of the world good aspects and beams; the child shall be a lover of good things, of great and firm counsel, and a searcher out of secret things and divine.] Likewise julius Firmicus adorning this planet with many great praises, saith, that from his virtue proceedeth a quick and subtle spirit in the deliberation of affairs, a certain word, a stable amity, a long foresight, and a royal counsel. There be also many modern Astronomers, who say of the same Saturn, That even as the common and civil life is designed by jupiter, so likewise the solitary and divine life is appropriated to Saturn: Yea the ancient Philosophers and Poets have sung that he is most good, and that the golden world did pass under him: feigning that jupiter did afterward usurp the kingdom, having chased out Saturn, and that then began the silver age. 
Praise of ancient poets.  And let us note in regard of the most famous Poets amongst the ancients, that they have by their writings penetrated into the most profound cabinets of nature, and approached the secrets of the divine thought. For they sung not jests (as some hold) which the old fathers would not mention to their little children: but they have been acknowledged of the Sages for great divines, who hide the mysteries both of the one and other nature under the vail of fables, and for this cause are they celebrated of such as understand well their doctrine. That it is so, Aristole doth plainly manifest, in that the confirmeth great points of Philosophy by the testimony of Simonides, and of Homer. And Archesilaus' the inventor of the new Academy, ascribed so much honour to Homer, that he never went to bed, but he read some of his verses first, and said likewise in the day time (that he might have more leisure to read) that he went to his beloved. Anaxagoras also, yea and our Basil with laud admire the excellent virtue in the writings of this Greek Poet. And how many be there likewise who esteem Virgil the imitator of Homer, for a doctor in all natural and moral Philosophy? For many refer all that, which he hath feigned, to an allegorical sense. Lucretius also entreateth of all the precepts of Philosophy in verse. And Orpheus singeth more loftily then human knowledge can extend to, the mysteries of Theology and of the sacred ceremonies, which he had learned out of holy letters, as himself confesseth. Ovid likewise hath covered many of the secrets of Pythagoras, & of the creation, & disposition of the vniuers, in his Metamorphosis: but because he depraveth them with too lascivious a discourse, he looseth very much of their dignity. Wherein he hath been imitated of many other Poets, 
Against the poets of this age.  as in this our age, wherein there are very many, who do the office rather of bawds, then of the true children of the chaste Muses, because they delight to weave poisoning sense in the web of their fair words. Such indeed Plato commanded to be chased out of the commonweal. But to return to our purpose; it is most evident that these ancient Poets, great Philosophers & Divines, do testify that Saturn is an happy and willing planet. And in so much as they accuse him for devouring all his children, except four, they themselves interpret that of Time, by which indeed he consumeth all things, except the four elements, which still remain, because that out of them, and into them all nature is changed. And thereof it cometh, that they so call them, to wit, the fire jupiter; the air juno; the water Neptune, and the earth Pluto. Moreover if we will in excuse of Saturn, consider the cause of the malice, which commonly Astronomers attribute unto him; 
From whence the evils do proceed, which are attributed to Saturn.  it is certain, that the evils wherewith they accuse him proceed from his cold and dry nature, by which he seemeth to favour melancholy, whose property is to oppress and stop the desiring power and natural love, whose seat is hot and moist. And in that they separate Saturn from human society, we must understand, that this is not the planet which properly they mean, but rather the child disposed to such complexion and disposition, partly through the influence of the stars, partly through his birth and seed of the parents, or the place of his generation, or of his food, and partly also through the disposition which he may get by nurture and manners: and especially if the said planet ruling in the nativity of the child, 
The means to correct all evil influences.  it be invaded with the dryness of Mars, and coldness of the Moon. But yet one may correct every such evil influence. For the child increasing in years and judgement may addict himself to study and contemplation of high and divine things, which are the delights of him, who leadeth a solitary life: and doubtless he shall perceive that Saturn is not evil, but doth rather favour him with a good influence. And if any find himself heavy by reason of his Saturnine complexion, 
Matth. 5.  let him meditate on that which is written, [Blessed are they which mourn:] if he be pensive or silent, let him hearken to that which is said, [Marie hath chosen the good part:] if he have desire to store up riches, let him lay up in heaven. For so may he easily correct every evil inclination, which he shall naturally have. And as much may we speak of him who shall be stirred up with the inflammation of Mars. For if the Martial choler maketh him hasty, and subject to anger, let him not use it against the poor and little ones, but to repress vices. For as golden Chrysostome saith, [Where there is no wrath nor indignation, there science profiteth nothing, the judgements are not constant, and crimes are not corrected.] Let then wars, murders, boldness, magnanimity, spoils, captivities, flights, violences, and such like be exercised against the enemies of God, and for the public peace: and then this Mars will not be evil, 
Nomb. 25.  but rather numbered amongst the saints and servants of God, with Phineas son of Eleasar, commended for his zeal, and with David who fought the battles of the Almighty. But if among warriors there happen deceit, perjury frauds, temerity, fury, manslaughters, thefts, and such mischiefs; all this cometh to pass, because the rule of reason is broken. And then this gate being open, the winds of passions whisk out, and blow violently, like a great tempest. But so long as they remain under the commandment of Aeolus, to wit, so long as reason duly governeth; every violent motion proceeding from Martial choler, is easily moderated, and turneth to profit. The like must be judged of Venus, who is said to induce men to a lustful and lascivious desire. For if we govern well the concupiscence or appetite heated by this planet, the sun and Mars thereto ministering fervour; thereupon would ensue a good love inflamed towards God and our neighbour. So then we may conclude our speech, that men do wrongfully complain of their nature, or the influence of the stars, when they should rather accuse the perverseness of their il-inclined will, which causeth their voluntary sin, as in the second part of our Academy we have related. But this will be more clear unto us, if we consider how the stars work in man, not in constraining, but disposing: which (ARAM) shall be the subject of your speech.   

Of the planets in general, and how they work in man, not in constraining, but disposing. Chap. 31.  ARAM. 
MAny holding opinion, that we obtain nothing by the influence of the stars, do reject the doctrine of Astrologians as absurd, and altogether differing from philosophy. And amongst other reasons, they allege that there have been many grave philosophers, who have applied their care and diligence, to search out the causes of things, borrowing their knowledge from physic, from the Mathematics, and from many other arts and sciences; and yet never looked after the causes in astrology: namely Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, Plotin, Avicen, Auerrois, Hypocrates, and others the most renowned ancient authors. But one may answer them, that as it was forbidden by the Mosaical law, that any should reap his field all throughout, 
Levit. 19 & 23.  but should leave some corner for the poor and needful, whereof they might make bundles and farthels to sustain themselves, and appease their hunger: so it may be, that the former philosophers have left to their posterity, in the spacious field of the secrets of nature, enough for others to gather and to search out after them. And indeed if any one should set himself against us, saying, [Saint Augustine, Ambrose, Jerome, Origen, Damascene, and other doctors both Hebrues, Greeks' and Latins, have with most diligent labour sounded the sense of the scriptures, without touching that, which now you do: wherefore that which you say, is not true.] What could this conclude against us? For it is a common thing in schools, that nothing is concluded of pure negatives. 
Nothing concluded by denying.  And the Sages condemn not that, which any one hath found out for excellent by the subtlety of his own wit, though it never before had been touched by others. Wherefore no man is to be condemned, if he make a farther search of causes, than many ancient philosophers have done, who would not pass the bounds of the elementary nature, being contented to sound the causes by the power and qualities of these inferior bodies, as many of our age do, whose theoric and practic doth too much fail. Let us moreover add, that the most renowned amongst the ancients accord in this point. 
Inferior things draw favour from the superior.  [That the inferior things, and such as are called natural, do draw to them the favour of the superior and celestial, rather by one aspect then by another.] Which skill is holden excellent to be known. But for the Peripatetics, who abased in their sensible objects, content themselves with the sensible qualities for the cause of all effects, saying, that if there be found any effect, over which such a quality hath no power, that this proceedeth from a cause to us unknown: we may evidently see, 
Error of Aristotle in the cause of the heat of the sun.  that they have erred in all their teachings. For when Aristotle entreateth in the Meteors of the heat of the sun, he saith, that it proceedeth from two causes joined together: to wit, from his motion and place: not from his motion only, as being quicker than jupiter, Mars and Saturn: which forasmuch as they are more remote, their inflammation in a very quick motion, doth not attain to us. Neither also can the heat of the sun proceed from the moon, Venus, and Mercury, because that though they be nearer unto us, yet being more slow in motion, they are not so much inflamed. This reason he delivereth, and this makes me to wonder, how a person so celebrated could imagine an inflammation in such things, as receive no strange impression. For he would attribute that to the distance and motion, which should be referred to the natural virtue. Might not some other then, better sound the cause why the interjection of the sun beams doth bring heat, though Aristotle a most subtle searcher of natural causes, could not attain to it? Which perhaps he abstained to do, because he would not pass the limits by him appointed in his basest philosophy, which he calleth natural. Yet nevertheless mounting somewhat higher, in that which he writeth to Alexander, he teacheth, that in taking of medicines the aspect of the heavens must be diligently observed. But Hypocrates proceeding farther, doth foretell the diseases, recovery and death, by the house of the Moon, 
A physician must be an Astronomer.  and the aspects thereof, with the other planets. And Haly in the beginning of the work of this author, and according to his aduse, saith, that the physician ignorant in astronomy, is like a blind man that gropes for his way with his staff. Besides, it would be too long to collect that which Plato in his obscure discourse, and divers Academics and unknown philosophers, do teach to be extracted from the heavens, both how, and when.  

Of the power of the stars in men, not constraining but disposing.  And what do the heavens by their continual motion, but only work in us? Some may say, they give influence to the elements and to plants. But I demand; are not our bodies heated by the sun; and altered, and (with cold) benumbed by the Moon? The simple vulgar is not ignorant hereof. Why then do we not say, that the stars communicate other influences no less known to the Sages, than these of the said lights are to the vulgar? And yet not that their power performeth entire effects. For with them (as we have heard) concur the diet, manners, nativity, and place, but above all, the liberty of the mind is always dominant, to moderate and govern all the inclinations thereof, which indeed proceedeth of the proper spiritual nature thereof, which moveth the body; and not the body the mind: and with this consenteth that which Ptolemy saith in the beginning of his Apotelesmes, and in his book of fruit, speaking thus, [A good Astrologian may well prevent much evil, which otherwise might happen by the disposition of the stars, if he foreknow their nature, and forecast how to hinder that it happen not, and that the ill-disposed subject receive no damage by the place, by which it should receive profit. So then, we should not impose upon Saturn; an harmful sadness, or wicked severity: nor upon Mars, a cruel rashness: nor on Mercury, a cautelous malice: nor on Venus, lascivious loves: nor an inconstant proceeding, on the Moon: no more than he that hath bleare-eys, should impute his infirmity to the light, nor the flaming of an house to the fire, nor the bruise to the stone; nor bonds, prisons, and executions of malefactors to the severity of the judge. For every evil effect ensueth upon the indisposition of the subject receiving, and not upon the influence of the superior powers▪ which (to the contrary) we may maintain (as already we have done) to be of itself good still, yea by the particular ordinances of the stars, according to the doctrine of Mathematicians. For thus many of them say [Saturn disposeth the intellectual virtue, he provoketh to wisdom, and to contemplation of divine and human things, and pierceth to the brightness of true Philosophy. But if the Saturnist apply his profound thoughts to evil, to accomplish his disordinate appetite, than he wholly intendeth to deceit, fraud and cog, and yet the loftiest and divinest part thereof called Synteresis, resisting it in him; then full of melancholy, he feeleth himself so oppressed with anxiety and tediousness, 
How the stairs become ill.  that he supposeth that most good and profitable, which is most noisome and damageable: and as he findeth himself more oppressed with the often remembrance of his wicked life, many visions do oftentimes present themselves unto him, like semblances of the dead, shadows of the deceased, horrors of sepulchres and tombs of such as are departed. To the inner eye of his thought presenteth itself the wrath of God, the assaults of the devil, despair & hate of salvation. And as much may we speak of the Martialist, who if he excite the violence and force of his courage, not to zeal of justice as he ought to do, but to accomplish his desires and carnal appetites: then commits he thieveries▪ rapes, and many other mischiefs. So that thereupon some will attribute evil to the planets, which are called welwilling: For the ordinance of jupiter, which by the hot and moist, or by a debonair nature guideth to clemency, might be so much augmented, that the kerbed and perverted spirit might be forced to an entire dissolution. So the noble and mild influence of Venus, which maketh man benign, if it be not moderated, will make him be effeminate, and a slave to all lustful appetites. And the sun, father of life and giver of light, directeth men to true wisdom and royal dignity, and yet if the splendour of the mind be abused, and that it be converted into pride, it mounteth into an ambitious presumption, arrogancy, and scorn of others. Thus then may we say, that many evils may proceed from that which is good; as of the abundance of wine wherewith any man is glutted, doth arise the oppression of the heart, abating of virtue, and many such accidents: though being moderately taken, it rejoiceth the heart, and comforteth the natural powers. So the water likewise, which is a good element, and very profitable for all, drowneth and choketh those which take not heed thereof▪ and overturneth those buildings which are not very firm. Wherefore let us conclude, that all influences are good, so that the subjects be well disposed, and can use them: and especially, that the stars and planets operate in man, not in constraining, but in disposing his inclinations, the which by reason the mind may always moderate and correct. And taking occasion upon this matter, let us come to the true Astronomy and Astrology of Christians, which is to contemplate the glory and greatness of God by the work of the heavens: as (ACHITOB) finishing this days work you may relate to us.   

Of the true Astronomy, which the heavens teach us, and especially the sun in his admirable effects. Chap. 32.  ACHBTOB. 
IT is not without cause that the prophet saith, [The heavens declare the glory of God, 
Psal. 19  and the earth showeth the work of his hands.] For thereby he evidently teacheth, that the work of the spheres, and their well ordered motion do demonstrate, as with the finger even to our eyes, the great and admirable providence of God their creator, even as if the heavens should speak to every one. In an other place it is written, 
Eccle. 43.  [This high ornament, this clear firmament, the beauty of the heaven so glorious to behold, is a thing full of hough then that the heavens have neither voice nor speech like men, yet when the workmanship of them, and the goodly images portrayed and placed in them, do present themselves unto us, it is as much as if God spoke to us. For sight belongeth to the eyes, as hearing doth to the ears: and that which offereth itself to those, 
The heavens are visible words which preach unto us God.  is as the sound is to these. Wherefore in very deed we may call not only the heavens, sun, moon and stars, but all other creatures also, visible words, which speak to the eyes, as those which are in sound and voice do speak to the ears. If likewise we can very well understand dumb folks by the signs which they make us, & say that they speak by signs: why then should we not hearken to the language of God, speaking by the heavens, and by the signs, which he hath placed in them? For may we not truly say, that they speak unto us by signs? And if we call books (dumb teachers) because they teach by the means of writing, which they lay before our eyes, what fairer book may we see written in a fairer letter, and of more neat impression, and printed with goodlier characters, than this great book of the whole vniuers, and chief of the heavens? Again if it be needful for us to seek out images to represent God, that so he might become visible to us, where may we find them fairer and more lively, and which speak unto us a language most easy to be understood, if we be not altogether deaf? Wherefore it is not without good cause, that when God, willing to make his greatness, his magnificence and providence known to his people, saith by Esay, [Lift up your eyes on high, 
Isay 40.  & be hold who hath created these things, which is he, that bringeth out their armies by number, and calleth them all by their names. By the greatness of his power, and mighty strength nothing faileth.] This is it in all these considerations, that David in the place before alleged, after he hath acknowledged that there is no language nor speech, where the voice of the heavens is not heard, doth further add, that their line is gone forth through all the earth, and their words unto the ends of the world: meaning by this line, the magnificent frame and excellent workmanship of them. For all is so well made and composed therein by the workmaster, that it seemeth to have been all drawn out by line, rule and compass. And when he speaketh of their words, he understandeth the mark and impression which is in them; by which they preach unto us, in stead of words. And for this cause also he saith before: that one day uttereth speech unto another day, and one night teacheth knowledge unto another night: which is as much, as if he should say, that one day teacheth and preacheth another, and the night doth the same: because that from day to day, and from night to night God manifesteth his power and glory.  
And let us note, 
Of the excellency of the sun and true testimony of the providence of God.  that the prophet proposing unto us the heavens thus in general, as true preachers of his divine providence, maketh principal and express mention of the Sun, because it is the most goodly creature, the most agreeable, most profitable, and necessary for men, and for all the rest of the works of God. For this cause also, every one giveth more heed unto it, then to all the other celestial bodies. For it is by the course and means of the Sun, that we have ordinarily days and nights, and that they be sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, and another time equal (as hath been already told us) and also, that we have the distinction of years, and of the divers seasons of them; as of the spring time, summer, autumn and winter, and of the time fit to sow, plant, till the earth, and to gather the fruits thereof, and generally to perform all other works necessary for the life of man. And then may very well be considered the course and compass of this goodly light, which is from the one end of heaven to the other end, and how there is nothing that is hid from the heat thereof. Shall we let pass in silence the gallant course, which every day it maketh, compassing the whole world in the space of four and twenty hours, without being any whit weary? For from the hour, that God hath created it, it hath never desisted from work day nor night, and hath never failed one jot, neither shall cease, so long as the world shall endure. And therefore it is also said in Ecclesiasticus, [The sun also a marvelous instrument, 
Eccles. 43.  when it appeareth, declareth at his going out, the work of the most high.] And presently after, [Great is the Lord that made it, by whose commandment it doth run hastily.] Then speaking in general of all the planets and stars, [It is a camp (saith he) pitched on high, shining in the firmament of heaven: the beauty of the heavens are the glorious stars, and the ornament that shineth in the high places of the Lord. By the commandment of the holy one they continue in their order, and fail not in their watch.] And who is it, except the blind, that beholdeth not this goodly sun, to pass out of his pavilion, like a magnificent king, that marcheth forth of his palace? Who seethe not the fair countenance that he showeth to all, being as the eye, and mirror of the whole world? Who vieweth not his trim locks, and the golden hairs and yellow beard of his rays, by which he spreadeth his light, and heat upon all creatures? In such sort that as none can avoid his heat, so none can fly from his light. For as it is written, [By the word of the Lord are his works: 
Eccles. 42. Eccles. 43.  The sun that shineth looketh upon all things, and all the works thereof are full of the glory of the Lord. At noon when it burneth the country, who may abide for the heat thereof? The sun burneth the mountains three times more than he, which keepeth a furnace with continual heat: it casteth out fiery vapours, and with the shining beams blindeth the eyes. Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days (saith the Lord to job) and hast thou caused the morning to know his place? 
job. 38.  That it might take hold of the corners of the earth, and that the wicked might be shaken out of it? For (as it is said in another place) They are among those, which abhor the light, 
job. 24.  and know not the ways thereof, nor continue in the paths thereof. The murderer riseth early, and killeth the poor and needy, and in the night he is as a thief. The eye also of the adulterer waiteth for the twilight, and saith, None eye shall see me, and disguiseth his face. They dig through houses in the dark, which they marked for themselves in the day: they know not the light. But the morning is even to them as the shadow of death; if one know them, they are in the terrors of the shadow of death.] By which testimonies aptly agreeing with that, which is written (every man that doth evil hateth the light) we may know, 
john. 3.  besides the greatness of the works of God, which principally shineth in the creation of the Sun, how even they, who would not behold the light thereof but fly from it as much as they may, because they hate it and fear it as the death, cannot for all that avoid it. To the end then that we may reap some profit by this discourse, and so finish this days talk, let us think, that if the most ignorant and most doltish, are inexcusable for their ignorance and ingratitude towards God, for the sermons of the heavens, which they continually make to all creatures: how much more are the learned, and chief Astronomers and Astrologians; if they know not very well how to use their science to the glory of God. 
Of the names of Astronomers and Astrologers, and of their true intent.  For they are called Astronomers, because they have the knowledge of the laws and rules, which the sovereign creator hath established and ordained among the stars and their courses and motions; according as their name derived from the Greek tongue importeth: as also the name of Astrology will infer as much, seeing that thereby is signified, that they understand and can render a reason of the nature, and of the effects of the celestial bodies. Wherefore then, sith they have greater knowledge, than the ignorant and common people as well by the knowledge, as by the observations and continual experience of the effects of the planets, they shall be therefore found the more culpable before God, if they understand not the language of the heavens, thereby to learn how to glorify him. And yet so far are the greater part of them from doing that which we say, that contrariwise we see very many, which impute that to the spheres, that they should attribute to the spheres-creator, and so draw men from God their father, by the vanity of their humane dreams, under colour of their Astronomy and Astrology, causing them to stay in regard of the creatures with them, and so make them Atheists, as they are, when they acknowledge none other God, but an idol of Nature. And therefore I desire that we may to morrow again proceed to behold the admirable effects of the Sun, being most apparent to all, and most easy for to know, by which the rudest and most simple may learn to come to God: as among other effects is that of the rising and setting of this goodly light. For the providence of God shineth marvelously in this point, as (ASER) we may learn of you.  
The end of the fourth day.    

THE FIFT DAYS WORK.  

Of the rising and setting of the sun: and of the providence of God, which shineth in the commodities of day and night. Chapter 33.  ASER. 
IF with understanding we read the books of the heavens, we shall verily esteem the celestial bodies to be the chief natural Philosophers, Doctors and Astronomers, by whom God daily teacheth us that principal Astronomy and Astrology, which he will have us learn, and whereof we must not be ignorant, without being convicted, as well the unlearned as the learned, of very great unthankfulness towards him, and of more beastly brutishness, then is amongst the bruit beasts. For he hath assigned us teachers and masters which keep common school with us day and night, as by our precedent discourse we have already understood. And yet the greatest part of men, yea almost all, do no more profit in this school, than the very beasts, though indeed it standeth continually wide open to all: yea and they, which should chief learn out of this great book of nature touching the knowledge of the creator of all things, are those which oftentimes are farthest to seek. For in lieu of committing themselves to be guided by this book, so to approach to God, as he pointeth out the path and way to those, who have eyes to see and a spirit to understand; they rather take occasion therein, by the vain dreams of their own apprehensions to wander from the truth. And for this cause Moses, David and the other Prophets and servants of God, speaking of the works of the creation, and of the divine providence in them, do propound unto us, but simply, those which are the most apparent to all, & the most easy to be understood, because they will not only teach the most learned (who are they which willingly make lest profit in their writings) but will also instruct the simple and ignorant, whom God doth oftentimes make capable of his secrets. For which cause likewise these holy fathers speak not of the spheres, and heavenly bodies subtly, as Philosophers in their schools do, but rather vulgarly; to the end that the most rude and plainest may understand their philosophy, replenished with the doctrine of salvation. For it is very necessary that every one should be instructed therein, according to his own capacity.  
To pursue then our yesterdays speech, 
Utility of the light and heat of the sun.  begun concerning the Sun, which the holy Scripture setteth so often before our eyes as an universal preacher of the sovereign Majesty, I pray you let us first consider, what joy and what good it is, that men receive by it, so long as it distributeth his light, as we have already heard, being like the chariot of God to bring it to them. Likewise how much pleasure and profit receive they by his heat? Again do we not see how he hath his determined time to make us day? And how that after he hath lightened one part of the world, during such time as was assigned to him by God the creator, he than transporteth his light to the other part? And when he hath performed his task on one side of the world, he returneth to the other, without any ceasing, rest, or fainting. Wherein we must especially acknowledge gods wonderful providence, who hath created him neither greater nor less than is necessary to perform the office, which hath been committed to him. And for his greatness we may truly judge that it is immense and admirable, because that in what place soever men may be, whether in the east, or in the west, or in the north, or in the south parts, yet do they all behold it, of lemma self-same greatness. And therefore doth the prophet say [They which dwell in the uttermost parts of the earth, 
Psal. 65.  are afraid of thy signs, and thou makest them joyful with the going forth of the evening, and the morning:] that is, with the rising and setting of the sun, and other planets and stars. Wherein we must note, that though we commonly say of the sun, that he riseth and setteth, as if we spoke of a man, that went to take his rest in the night, after that he travailed all day: yet in truth he neither riseth nor setteth, for that he is continually busy; 
How the rising and setting of the sun must be taken.  bringing day to some, when others have night. But men say commonly so, because that in regard of us, he seemeth, when he retireth, as if he went to rest, at eventide: and that he riseth in the morning, when he returneth unto us. Wherefore we say, that he is hidden and down, when we see him not: and that he is risen, when he appeareth at point of day. And so do the rude people and children, which dwell near the mountains, accustomably say, that he is gone to hide himself behind them. And they which are near the sea suppose, that he goeth to plunge & wash himself therein: as the Poets also say, accommodating their style to the vulgar. And yet all may behold that he riseth not on the same side where he setteth, but on the other quite opposite. Whereby is easy to be judged, that he hath not reposed all the while that men slept, but hath passed much way. And that he still carrieth his light with him, for it is a most certain thing that he hath not delivered night and darkness to those people and nations, by which he passed; but light, and day. But if there be few amongst the rude and ignorant, which meditate these things so far; there be fewer, which consider of the providence of God, that manifesteth itself in this perpetual changing of day into night, and of night into day. For there is nothing more contrary than light and darkness, and consequently then night and day? And yet hath God so well disposed, compacted, and reconciled these contrarieties together, that if things were otherwise ordained, there were neither man nor beast that could long live upon the face of the earth. And therefore Ecclesiasticus saith, 
Eccles. 42.  [Oh how delectable are all his works, and to be considered even to the very sparks of fire: they live all, and endure for ever; and whensoever need is, they are all obedient. They are all double, one contrary to another: he hath made nothing that hath any fault. The one commendeth the goodness of the other, and who can be satisfied with beholding God's glory?] And indeed if the day should last perpetually, and equally alike in all parts of the world: the heat of the sun would so scorch every thing that it would dry up and consume not only men and beasts, but even all moisture and humidity which is in the earth. 
Marvels of the providence of God in the commodities of day and night.  Whereby all living creatures should fail, for they could not live for two causes. First because that life doth principally lie in heat and moisture, and is conserved by them, according to the order that God hath set in nature, to guard and maintain it. Wherefore as men and beasts lose their life, if their natural heat be altogether extinguished: so doth it likewise befall them, when their moisture is entirely consumed. For there must be a very equal proportion in all those qualities, which are in the bodies of living creatures, to wit, in heat and coldness, in dryness and moisture, according to the nature of the four elements whereof they are composed; for the excess of the one doth confound the other. For which cause God hath so disposed the course of the Sun, that he distributeth his heat in so good and just measure, that he hindereth the too much coldness and moisture, which might quench the natural heat: and yet doth not so consume them by the heat and dryness which he causeth, but that there always remaineth so much as is needful for the life of all creatures. And for the other reason that they would fail, it is, that neither man, nor any other animal can live without nourishment, to repair in them that, which the natural heat, like a fire incessantly flaming, hath consumed of radical humour in their bodies: & yet this heat must be likewise maintained that it be not extinguished, as we have amply discoursed concerning these things in the second part of our Academy. For this cause then God hath ordained eating and drinking for the nurture of all living creatures, and hath appointed to the earth as to the mother of all, the charge and office to produce fruits, and other nourishments needful for them. Which she cannot do being by nature cold and dry, if as she is warmed by the heat of the sun, she be not also moistened by the waters both of heaven & earth. And therefore when that the sun hath heated and dried it up all day long, the night (which is the shadow of the earth) doth afterwards ensue, and taking from us the sight of the sun and his light, doth by this means bring unto us darkness, which causeth night, wherein the Moon who is cold and moist, hath her rule; as the sun, who is hot and dry, hath his rule in the day time. And so we must consider these two celestial bodies very nearly, according to their proper effects, which we perceive and experiment here on earth below, 
Genes. 1.  as also Moses testifieth unto us, saying, that God created two great lights amongst others, to be as regents and rulers, the one of day, and the other of night. So then as the earth, and all that it beareth, together with all animals or living creatures that it nourisheth, are heated and dried up in the day time by the sun: even so are they moistened and refreshed in the night time by the withdrawing thereof, and by the humidity and coldness of the Moon. Wherein there especially happeneth a mutual accord between heaven and earth, under which we comprise the air, waters, and all creatures therein contained, with their natures and qualities. Moreover in this marvel, we are to consider, that as men and animals cannot survive without nourishment, which God hath provided by the means aforesaid: so likewise could they not live without taking some rest. For they are not of nature like the heavens, and planets which have continual motions, and yet wear not away. And therefore as God hath appointed the day for his creatures to travel in, so hath he ordained the night for them to rest in. And as waking is proper to travel, so is sleeping peculiar to rest. In which, sleep being requisite, and sleep requiring humidity and freshness, the better to dispose and induce living creatures to sleep, the night is much fit therefore, and for rest, because of the moist and cold nature thereof, then is the day, which participateth most with heat and dryness. And because all repose is in the night, it is also more quiet than the day: neither is there so much noise, which may hinder sleep and rest. Wherein we have yet another commodity of the distinction and exchange of days and nights, whereto we may likewise add that which David declareth when he saith, 
Psal. 104.  [He appointed the moon to distinguish the seasons, the sun knoweth his going down. Thou makest darkness, and it is night, wherein all the beasts of the forest creep forth. The lions roar after their pray, and seek their meat at God. When the sun riseth, they retire and couch in their dens. Then goeth man forth to his work, and to his labour until evening.] Behold here goodly considerations; how God hath provided for the preservation of the life of his creatures, by means of day and night. For because that the wild beasts, which live by pray are dangerous and cruel, he so guideth and governeth them by his providence, that he keepeth them quiet, and shut up all day in their caves and dens, in such sort, that they seldom come forth but in the night, to seek their pray, even then when men and domestical beasts retire themselves, and rest out of their dangers. Thus have we very many commodities by the day and the night: And more should be found out by a careful search. For all that which we have hitherto declared, is so evident before the eyes of every one, that the most rude and simple amongst men must needs consider and understand it. But I think it most convenient that continuing the principal subject of our discourses, we should speak of the excellent instructions, which do likewise present themselves in the consideration of the second course and motion of the sun and moon, for the distinction of years, months, and seasons, whereof we have heretofore made mention. Then to you (AMANA) I commit this discourse.   

Of the second course and motion of the Sun and Moon, for the distinction of years, months and seasons: and of the providence of God in these things. Chap. 34.  AMANA. 
THe Sun, as we have heretofore heard, hath two sundry courses: the one by which he bringeth unto us night and day; and the other by which he distinguisheth unto us years and seasons. Now every one seethe that the sun passeth and runneth through the heavens: & it seemeth to many that the heaven stirreth not, though in truth it be otherwise. For it is the heaven which turneth, and taketh, and carrieth away the sun with it, so causing him to perform his course. So likewise every one knoweth that the days, nights, years, and times are divided and measured by the course of the Sun; but the ignorant and common people understand not how this cometh to pass, neither do they consider of it. For these causes then, there be many, who cannot so-well acknowledge the excellency, magnificence and divine glory, which shineth in the heavens, as they do who have been conversant in the study of Astronomy and Astrology, considering that the celestial light continually lighteneth their understanding. And without this guide all science little availeth for the true knowledge of God. It is then from Astronomers that we learn, 
Of the two courses which the sun hath.  how that besides the course which the sun & moon do ordinarily make, within the space of four and twenty hours, which is commonly called a natural day, as likewise all the other planets and stars make their course by violence of the course of the highest heaven, who comprising all the spheres within the concavity thereof, carrieth them away with him, and causeth them to perform the same course which he pursueth; like to a great wheel that should draw about other lesser ones that were conjoined with it: Besides (I say) this common course of all the heavenly bodies, the sun, the moon, and the other planets, have another course proper & peculiar to every of their spheres, which God hath assigned them: according to which, the sun performeth his in 365. days, and six hours, and certain minutes; as long observation and daily experience hath taught those, who have diligently applied themselves to the contemplation of the heavens: who likewise have knowledge of the proper course of the moon, and every one of the stars; as hath been already related in our precedent speeches.  

Of the effects of the second course of the sun, and moon.  Now as by the first course and motion of the sun, we have a distinction of the days and nights: so likewise by the second course thereof, is given unto us the difference of their length and shortness, and the distinction of the years and divers seasons. For we take the succession of the years from this second course of the sun, as from the moon we have the distinction of the months, according to which she increaseth & decreaseth, as we ordinarily behold, by reason of the divers opposition of the sun, from whom she receiveth her light in such quantity, as is sufficient for her to shine upon the earth. 
Eccles. 43.  So Ecclesiasticus saith, That the Lord hath made the moon to appear according to her seasons, which should be a declaration of the time, and for a perpetual sign: that the feasts are appointed according to her, her light diminishing to the last end; and the months take their name of her, and that she groweth woonderously in her changing. Likewise each one knoweth that the moon declareth the times fit to sow, plant, & lop in, & to do other such like businesses, whereof one must judge according to the state and disposition of her. So then these two great lights, the Sun and Moon are most notable before all the world, forsomuch as every one may see with his eyes (if he be not altogether deprived of understanding) the excellent works which God performeth in them, and by them. 
Psal. 147  And therefore also the holy scripture doth propose them unto us more often, and more especially, to induce us to consider of the majesty of God in his works, than any other of the celestial bodies, which are infinite in number. Which, for this cause, none can know particularly, nor yet number them, nor name them, save God alone, as his word teacheth us by his prophet saying, [He counteth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by their names.] Whereupon we may affirm, that all that we shall here discourse upon, and that the most subtle amongst men can describe, is a very small thing, in respect of the greatness and excellency, which their creator hath engraved in them. But yet by this which is proposed unto us, we may easily consider, into what an admiration men should be ravished, if it might be permitted them to behold, view, and contemplate fully, and in perfection all the stately works of the heavens, and of all the lights in them contained, and to understand their natures, effects and properties, and all the beauty and goodly order, which therein is, and the great utility which thereby redoundeth to men and to all creatures. For all therein is disposed by an excellent order, like an host and army, whereof God is the leader and governor. 
Deut. 17. Psal. 24. Isay. 60.  And therefore this whole ornament of the heaven and of these fair lights is called in the scripture the host, army, and soldiers of heaven: and God, who is the Lord & prince, and the great and sovereign captain, is likewise named the Lord of hosts.  
Moreover as we have noted, that in the succession of day and night, the providence of God doth publicly declare itself: so have we excellent testimonies in the diversity of the months, 
Diversity o● the seasons in the ●eere to testify the providence of God.  and of the seasons, which are throughout the year. For some are cold, others excessive hot, some dry, and some wet, some temperate, and other some untemperate. For according as the sun doth approach near, or recoil from us, or as it is higher or lower, according as our sight considereth it, and the situation of the places and countries, which we inhabit, doth present it unto us; and that his heat remaineth more or less upon the earth, by means of his proper and particular course: so have we the days longer or shorter, and the nights likewise, and more or less hot, cold, dry, and wet weather, and more temperateness and untemperatenes: So that it may seem that the year is distinguished by divers ages, like to the life of man. And therefore many say that the spring-time is as the infancy and childhood of the year: the summer like the youth and virility thereof: autumn like the ripe age inclining to oldness: and winter like the decrepit and last age, wherein it seemeth that all is mortified, and become dead: then we behold the spring-time again return like a new creation and reparation of the world, and consequently all the rest of the seasons, not failing of the time ordained to them. For as the sun never faileth to bring the day in due time: so likewise doth it not fail to distinguish always unto us the divers seasons in every year, in such sort as it hath done from the beginning. 
Power of the moon upon all creatures.  The moon also hath her proper effects in all these things, and is very powerful as well among living creatures, as among the fruits of the earth; through the changes, which are in her. For it is seen by experience, that according as she increaseth or decreaseth, so do the humours in all creatures augment and diminish, and are tender or firm, and change diversly. Moreover, as this planet altereth her course, so doth the weather change in disposition, turning sometimes into rain, sometimes being fair, and sometimes tempestuous. But above all, the power which God hath placed in her, manifesteth itself most evidently in the waters of the sea, especially in the flow and ebbings thereof. And although that amongst so many effects produced by these two goodly lights, 
Testimony of the providence of God in the harmony of the seasons of the year.  there are great contrarieties and marvelous differences: yet God by his providence can reduce them to singular agreement, and make them all return to one bound and point. For the excess of the one is the temperature of the other. For as one season is apt to sow and plant in, so is another fit to make the fruits grow, and ripen in: and another is proper to gather them in, and prepare them to serve our uses. And as the cold and drought do much hinder corruptions and infections, which might arise through excessive heat and wetnes: so doth heat and moisture temperate the great cold and dryness, and conserve and repair that which they would destroy: so that by the one of these qualities the defect of the other is supplied, and the excess of the one is the temperature of the other: as we have heard that there cometh to pass, by the succession of day and night, which causeth that many commodities do flow to men and animals. By how much the more we consider of these things, by so much the more shall we find occasion to wonder at the works and providence of God. For whereas the property of one contrary is to destroy another: he hath so well tempered and reconciled them, that he causeth the one to be preserved by the other: yea that the one cannot subsist without the aid of his companion. Which taketh place not only in these things, which we have here already mentioned, but likewise in all creatures, which are in the universal world. For it is all composed of contrary natures. And yet God their father maketh them to fit so well together, that he reduceth all discord into concord, and all enmity into amity: as the example is notable in man's body being compounded of elements and qualities clean contrary one to another; and yet conjoined by such a unity, that the composition and preservation is most firm and assured, so long time as it pleaseth God to maintain his work. But this matter will be more clearly expounded, when we shall discourse of the elementary world. Yet before we leave the worthy subject, which hath been given us to discourse upon the celestial fires, it will not be a little fruitful, if we consider of the image of God, and of his eternal light, which is proposed to us in the sun: and how the felicity of man's life is represented by changing of the light into darkness. Which (ARAM) I desire that we may hear of you.   

Of the image of God, and of his light which is proposed to us in the sun: with the felicity of man's life in the changing of light and of darkness. Chapter 35.  ARAM. 
THose matters which hitherto have been by us delivered concerning the celestial bodies, although they be very briefly touched of us, yet may they serve for a very good foundation▪ to give us some entrance into a more lofty and more excellent Astrology, wherein we have the word of God for our guide. For it is easy for us already to understand, if we be well instructed concerning the unity of God in trinity of persons, and if we have in memory the discourse which we have held concerning the creation of heaven and of the celestial bodies; what goodly images of this divine essence we have portrayed in them, & principally in the sun; who alone is in the world sufficient for the total vniuers: even as there is but one God, who is the sufficiency of all creatures. Moreover as this visible sun is a fountain of light, which is never exhausted nor yet diminisheth in communicating himself with all creatures, 
Eccles. 42.  but is perpetual; so is it of God, concerning whom it is written, that he hath garnished the excellent works of his wisdom, being from everlasting, and to everlasting for ever; and that unto him nothing can be added, neither can he be diminished. 
1. Tim. 6.  Moreover, when it is said of God, that he dwelleth in unaccessible light, by reason that it is incomprehensible to all creatures: 
james. 1. Mal. 4. john. 13.8.9.12. Matth. 5. Ephes. 6.  and when he is called the father of light, and his son jesus Christ the son of justice, and the light of the world and his word; and likewise they who hear it, and who receive it are called lights, candles, lamps, and burning torches: we must by so many testimonies, propound unto us in our understanding another invisible and spiritual world, of which this same visible and corporal one is nothing but a very rude portraiture, & an image much differing from that which it representeth: & so conclude, that if this image and picture, & that which yet we behold not, but as in a dim glass, be a thing so goodly and so excellent; that indeed it may be covered with the vail of this All, which we so much admire. 
Eccles. 43.  For we may say with Ecclesiasticus: That there are hid yet many greater things than these be, and we have seen but few of his works. For (as he addeth) who hath seen him that he may tell us? And who can magnify him as he is? Consequently let us set before our eyes all this invisible and spiritual world, replenished with souls and spirits, as we behold this visible world replenished with bodies: and let us contemplate twice as many spiritual eyes in this intelligible sphere as there be corporal in all men, and in other living creatures: and then let us mount up to God, and to jesus Christ our Lord, which is the Son that illuminateth and lighteneth all: and so let us consider how bright this son must be, and what is the light and splendour of him, considering that he is the great Son, eternal, infinite, and incomprehensible, who hath created that Sun which we behold, the light whereof is not so much in proportion comparable with the least beam of the divine light, as is the brightness of the least star, yea of a candle compared with all this visible sun, or as one drop of water balanced with the huge sea.  
Now let us consider, that if the sight of this heavenly planet be pleasant to us, and bring unto us joy and comfort through his light and heat, being cause of so many profits and benefits to all creatures: how much more should the contemplation of the great everlasting Son be delightful unto us? and what inexplicable benefits doth it bring to men, namely to their souls and spirits? For this is the true Sun of justice, which according to the prophet, hath health in his wings, that is, in his beams, 
Mal. 4.  by which he maketh men enjoy life eternal. And therefore very fitly doth the Scripture compare, not only the knowledge of God, but also his favour and grace, and the times of prosperity, and of his aid and succour, to the light: as also it compareth men's ignorance of God, and the times of adversity, and of his fury and vengeance, to the night and to darkness. 
Isay 60.  For this cause Isay willing to declare a great grace of God to the people of Israel, saith amongst other things. [Thou shalt have no more sun to shine by day, neither shall the brightness of the Moon shine unto thee: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and thy God, thy glory; thy sun shall never go down, neither shall thy Moon be hid: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy sorrow shall be ended.] And when the prophets denounce unto men any great and horrible and fearful judgement of God, they commonly say: that the sun, 
Isay. 13. & 24. joel. 2. Acts 2. Matth. 24. Isay. 34.  the moon, and the stars shall lose their brightness: that the sun shall wax dark, and the moon shall be turned into blood, and the stars shall fall from heaven; and the heaven itself shall roll like a scroll: so that the whole face of the world shall be changed, as if it should be turned upside down, and perish clean. And though these things come not to pass just so in respect of the creatures, yet do the prophets by such manner of speech signify the greatness of the judgements of God, and of his wrath, when he punisheth man. For though the nature which he hath created, doth still remain in one estate; yet it happeneth commonly to men, according to the feeling which they have of the wrath of God (except they be altogether obdurate against his judgements) as if the whole frame of the world were overturned, and as if all creatures should set themselves against them to war upon them and confound them, by rushing on them, and running at them. 
Isay. 9  On the other side Isay declaring the grace which God would show to his people, speaketh thus: [The people that walked in darkness have seen light; they that dwelled in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. 
Isay. 60. ] Again, in another place: [Arise oh jerusalem, be bright, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. And the Gentiles shall walk in thy light, and kings at the brightness of thy rising up.] But the prophet speaketh in another kind of language to the people, when he talketh to the wicked, 
Isay. 59  and telleth them amongst other things: [Therefore is judgement far from us, and justice doth not come near us: We wait for light, but lo, it is darkness: for brightness, but we walk in darkness. We grope for the wall like the blind, and we feel with our hands, as one that were without eyes. We stumble at noon days, as in darkness: we are in solitary places as dead men. 
Luke. 22. Ephes. 6. ] And therefore also the kingdom of the devil is called in holy-writ, the kingdom of darkness; and he which is the king is named the Prince of darkness. But the people of God requesting that the knowledge of him might be spread abroad throughout the whole earth, with all prosperity and blessedness saith in the Psalms. 
Psal. 67.  [God be merciful unto us, and bless us, and cause his face to shine amongst us.] So likewise the author of these divine Canticles chaunteth to the same purpose. [Lord lift up the light of thy countenance upon us: 
Psal. 7. ] that is to say, thy favour and benignity, as afterwards he declareth.  
Pursuing then this doctrine of the holy scriptures, we must learn by that which hath been propounded unto us, concerning the image of God in the sun, and by the discourse of his light, and of the darkness contrary thereto, 
Worthy instructions concerning the effects of the sun.  how the sovereign and great eternal Sun hideth his face from us, and how he showeth it unto us, and what good, and what evil doth thereby redound unto us, according as his word teacheth us in the fore-alleged testimonies. For as we have in the course of nature, one while day, and another while night; and those sometimes long, sometimes short; and as many of one as of another; in one season summer, in another winter; now hot, anon cold; then dry, and afterward wet; so at this time tempest, presently calm weather: even so runs all the course of man's life. For we have therein the time of ignorance and adversity, of chastisements, punishments, and vengeance of God, which are the night and time of darkness to men, and their winter and tempestuous seasons. And so have we the time of knowledge and understanding of God, and of prosperity, of grace, of joy, of felicity, and of consolation, which are to men like the day and the light, and as the spring-time & summer. And as the days and nights are some longer, and some shorter: so the Lord prolongeth or abridgeth the times of grace and of rigour; of his favour and of his wrath, as he pleaseth, and in such measure as he knoweth to be expedient, as well for his own glory, as for the good of his elect. Wherefore as we expect day after the night; the spring-time and summer after autumn and winter: so in the time of adversity we must attend in good confidence the time of prosperity, as we are assured to have light after darkness. Likewise as in the day time we look for the night; and for autumn and winter after the spring-time and summer: so in time of prosperity we must prepare for adversity. For as it is written, [To all things there is an appointed time, 
Eccles. 3. ] and therefore there is a time of joy, and a time of sorrow, a time to laugh, and a time to weep. Now if we could consider these things by the course of the sun, and by the change and succession of the days and nights, of the light and of darkness, and of the divers seasons, which succeed in each year: we should learn in this school a most profitable and laudable Astronomy, which is not found in the books of Ptolemie, nor of all the other Astrologers, how skilful soever they were, which have written concerning the knowledge of the stars. For when we should be in prosperity, we would take heed not to abuse ourselves, to misgoverne ourselves, and become too insolent, as it ordinarily cometh to pass, when we are too much at our ease, and think it will be always so with us. And thereupon ensueth, that so soon as we are deceived of our persuasion, we become desperate, because that we find ourselves in the danger and snares of mischance before we think of it. But when we shall consider the revolutions and changes which have been accustomed to come to the world: we shall foresee like good Astrologers and prognosticators, the tempest coming a far off, and the eclipses of the sun and of the moon; and while it is day, we shall prepare for the night: and in summer time for the winter, like good housekeepers. So likewise being in adversity, we shall not lose courage nor despair: but we shall comfort ourselves in the hope of God's help, and will patiently endure the bad season, until such time as he hath by the light of his favour and grace chased away the darkness of the scourges of his wrath and vengeance. Thus concluding the subject of our speech, let us entreat especially of the eclipses of the sun and moon, and of their nature and effects. For we may thereby again receive excellent instructions for this life: as (ACHITOB) you can declare unto us.   

Of the eclipses of the sun and moon; and of the image which we have therein: of the constancy which is in God, and of the inconstancy of men, and of human things. Chap. 36.  ACHITOB. 
THe consideration of the eclipses of the sun and moon hath opened to men the knowledge of many excellent secrets in nature, as the writings of the learned make mention. 
cause of eclipses.  Now they concur all in this point, that the eclipse of the sun happeneth through the diametral interposition of the moon between it and the earth: and that the shadow of the earth reaching out betwixt the sun and moon, causeth her also to be darkened & eclipsed: So that as the moon depriveth the earth of the brightness of the sunbeams; so likewise doth the shadow of the earth hinder the moon of the solary illumination. But the eclipses of these two planets do differ greatly: 
Difference of eclipses.  for that of the sun happeneth not through default of light in the body thereof, as it doth in the eclipse of the moon. For the sun is never without light, inasmuch as it is the proper substance thereof. But when the earth is directly between these two planets, then doth the moon become through dark, because she retaineth no light, at least that may appear to us, but only so much as she receiveth from the sun. Therefore then according as her course is direct, or opposite in respect of that of the sun, she doth augment or decrease in light, continually changing her estate in appearance, and according as we behold her, though that in effect, and according to the verity of her essence, she hath always one half lightened by the sun. For we must understand, that the moon is round like a bowl, and that always, except when she is eclipsed, 
How one moiety of the moon is ever light.  she receiveth light from the sun into one half of her globe, the other half remaining without brightness. But insomuch as she moveth continually, therefore according as she retireth from, or approacheth to the sun; so doth she appear divers in her light: which notwithstanding doth illuminate at all times one moiety of her circularly, from one part to another, that is, from her superior part to her inferior part, or from her inferior to her superior part. Now her inferior or lower part is that which looketh towards the earth, all of which, or any part thereof we behold when it is lightened: and her superior or upper part is that which is towards the sphere of the sun, which we cannot behold although it be illuminated by him. Now once a month all her inferior moiety receiveth the brightness of the sun, and then doth she appear unto us full of light: which cometh to pass on the fifteenth day of the moons age, because that then she doth oppositely confront the sun. Another time the superior moiety is fully illuminated, to wit, when she is conjoined with the sun, which is over her; and then is her lower part darkened, not appearing to us for two days: which cometh to pass at the end of the moon: and all the rest of the month she hath divers illuminations. For from her conjunction with the sun, the light in the upper part beginneth to fail, and by little and little to come to the lower part towards us, according as she moveth, reculing from the sun: and so doth till the fifteenth day, wherein all the inferior part towards the earth is shining, and the superior part is clean without light. After which time the light beginneth to convey itself to the upper moiety, decreasing by little and little towards us in the lower moiety, which at last is left clean without brightness, and the other which we see not becometh all shining. And it is to be noted, that the horns of the Moon which her divers aspect showeth us, turn their backparts towards the sun: and if she increaseth, they are turned towards the sun rising; if she be in the wain, they turn to the sun setting. She shineth moreover, adding to each day three quarters and the four and twentieth part of an hour, beginning from the second day, till the time she make full moon; and from that time forwards using the like substraction every day, till the time that she appeareth no more at all. And when she is within fowerteene degrees of the sun, she is seen no more. Whereby it appeareth, 
The moon smaller than the other planets.  that all the rest of the planets are greater than the moon: for none of them is hid or obscured by the beams of the sun, except it be within seven degrees thereof. But in that they are all of them higher than the moon is, they seem to be lesser: so in the same consideration it cometh to pass, that the brightness of the sun hindereth us of the sight of the fixed stars in the day time, which nevertheless shine as well in the day as in the night time; as may be perceived at the eclipses of the sun, as likewise in a very deep pit, if one should descend thereunto in the day time. 
Things to be considered in the shadow of the earth.  Moreover all these stars are never eclipsed: For the shadow of the earth, which causeth the moon to lose her light, reacheth not beyond her heaven. And the night also, is no other thing but the shadow of the earth, which shadow is in form like a pyramid; growing still less and less taperwise towards a point, till at last it fadeth: For all shadows wax less and less till they be clean diminished by distance, as may evidently be seen by shadows of birds, which fly in the air. Now the shadow of the earth finisheth in the air at the beginning of the region of fire: & above the moon all things are pure: wherefore it is not possible that the terrestrial shadow can hinder the brightness of the stars, which are above the moon. And therefore likewise we behold them in the night time like a candle in a dark place. But the shadow of the earth is the very cause that the moon is eclipsed always by night. 
Why the eclipses happen not every month.  And it is to be noted, in that, that the eclipses both of the sun and moon happen not every month, that it is by reason of the obliquenes of the Zodiac, and of the variable motions of the moon, which being sometimes north and sometimes south (as we have heretofore declared) meeteth not always in conjunction, or in opposition in the knots of the ecliptic circle, which are in the head, or in the tail of the dragon. We may note also, that the consideration of the shadows and eclipses aforesaid, hath taught men to judge of the greatness of the sun, of the moon, and of the earth. 
How one may ●udg of the greatness of the sun, the moon and the earth.  For first it should be impossible that there had been any universal eclipse of the sun, by the diametral interposition of the moon, if the earth were greater than the moon. Again this planet, and the shadow of the earth delivereth unto us greater certainty that the unmeasurable magnitude of the sun is much more than their own: 
Hist. nat. lib. 2.  in such sort that (as Pliny saith) there need nothing more be required to judge of the immensity of the sun by the eye, or by conjectures, sith that the trees planted by the way side have all of them their shadows proportionably equal, though there be much distance of ground betwixt them: as if the sun were in the midst of them, and did give light to all alike. And during the time that the sun is in the Equinoctiall-point, over the southern climates and regions, he casteth his light down right, without making any shadow: and yet in the north regions on this side the solstice-circle, the shadows fall on the north side at noon, and toward the west at sun rising, which could not happen if the sun were not very much greater than the earth. But leaving this discourse, we must out of our speech learn some point of Christian Astrology. Now we have heard, that the moon hath no light of herself (at least that can appear unto us) but so much as she receiveth from the sun, according to the disposition or opposition of their divers courses: in such sort, that the moon never persisteth in one estate, but changeth incessantly. But it is not so with the sun, for he hath always as much light, at one time as at another, and is not subject to any change. I say then that in him we have a goodly image of the constant and immutable God, who is always one, 
The image of God in the sun.  and ever without any variation, and who, firm in his counsel, hath ordained concerning all things for ever, according to his endless, right, and just will. 
Mal. 3. In the moon is an image of the creatures.  So contrariwise we have represented to us in the moon a perfect figure of the creatures, by which is demonstrated unto us, that all things under heaven are mutable and subject to continual change: and also that according as we receive our salvation in Christ through faith, and as we increase therein; in such degree are we made partakers of his divine light and of all his graces and blessings, even as the moon participateth of the brightness of the sun. 
Many worthy points to consider of in christian Astrology.  Moreover we shall have learned a worthy point of Christian Astrology, when we shall consider, that as these two celestial planets have perpetual alliance and communication together: even so the conjunction which is betwixt jesus Christ and his church is eternal. And therefore according as it is said in the common proverb, (God keepeth the moon from wolves) the faithful may very aptly speak this of themselves concerning their enemies, because they are much surer in the alliance of the Almighty, and under his protection. For as the sun shall never be without the moon, nor the moon without the sun: so the eternal son of God shall never be without his church, nor his church without him, although we see it sometimes increase, and sometimes decrease, and sometimes as if it clean failed, and were vanished, like the eclipsed moon. But as the moon doth not so fail by any eclipse that can happen, but that it persisteth to remain a moon still, though she be not seen of men: so the church can never clean fail, nor be so consumed, but that it shall ever be a church, notwithstanding that it may seem to human sight and exterior appearance to be nothing at all, and without any vigour. For it is founded upon the firm rock which is jesus Christ, and therefore all the power of hell cannot prevail against it nor waste it. And the Lord can always tell who be his, though men know it not. Next we must learn, that as the moon is eclipsed, when she is so opposed to the sun, that the shadow of the earth, spread out between them both, hindereth her to receive that light from him, which she is accustomed to attract: so cometh it to men in the church when their sins are like an obscure cloud, and an obstacle, which hindereth the favour and grace of God, that it cannot attain to them; and when there be mists and darknesses of ignorance, which do detain them from beholding of jesus Christ the true sun of their souls, and to commit themselves to be guided by the light of his word. But as the sun faileth not though he be eclipsed in regard of us; so the sovereign head of the elect doth never fail to his church; though he may seem sometimes to be absent, and quite withdrawn: for he always supporteth it by his power. And therefore also it is written that the woman (by whom the church is signified) hath the moon under her feet: 
Apocal. 12.  which is as much to say, as that the conversation of the children of God, which are members of the church, is not in earth, but in heaven (as Saint Paul testifieth) and that they have already put under their feet all worldly things, 
Phil. 3.  which are mutable and inconstant: insomuch as they live after the spirit & not after the flesh, 
Rom. 8.  & are illuminated by jesus Christ, who is the true sun of justice, that by the brightness of his word and of his coming discovereth all things. It is most certain, that the number of these is very small in respect of those worldly men, 
Man subject to greater changes than the moon.  who following the nature of elementary and corporal things, are subject to greater changes than the moon herself: which being lower than all the other stars & planets, & by so much nearer to the earth, receiveth likewise some mutation greater than the rest of the stars: as if God would represent unto us in her, the change, whereto the elements and all creatures composed of them, which are under the celestial spheres, are ordinarily subject. And yet doth not the moon change from her proper nature, which was ordained by the creator from the beginning, as we have already declared: yea though that in regard of us, and of our sight, she have the foresaid mutations; yet doth she never fail, but doth evermore repair himself, and presently renew: so that we see her not wear away in such manner, but that she persisteth without ceasing in her proper and natural course. But it is not so with men, who change not only from day to day, but also from hour to hour, from instant to instant, from age to age. For as they daily proceed in growth of body and of strength, from the hour of their conception and birth from time to time, until they be arrived to their full vigour like the full moon: so after they are ascended to this degree, they always abate and decline, till their extremest age, and to death, wherein they utterly fail in respect of this life, as if they had never been. For they cannot do like the moon, who after her defect doth continually repair and restore herself, till such time as she show herself full and entire: But they are constrained to attend for that last day, 
Acts. 3.  which is called by Saint Peter the day of the restitution and restoration of all things foretold by the prophets. So then in that day shall we be renewed in a permanent estate for ever. Behold then what (me seemeth) we must consider like christians upon our discourses of the sun and of the moon. And having hitherto entreated of the heavenly world, and of the spheres sufficiently to content a Christian astronomer: we will now proceed to describe the elementary world: whereof (ASER) you shall begin to speak; instructing us in the principles of natural and corruptible things.   

Of the beginning of natural and corruptible things. Chapter 37.  ASER. 
ALl Philosophers with one consent do teach, that there hath been at first (or at leastwise one must understand so) some subject without form, 
Of the first matter of a●● things.  capable of all forms, which they called (matter) or (Hyle) that is to say, the substance or stuff, which some also have named (Chaos) and which is properly described by Moses in these Hebrew words (Tohu & Bohu) which is as much to say, as I wots not what thing without form, containing by possibility all that which could be form. Plato in his Timaeo calleth it a Bosom without form, a power which is mother of the world, a nurse, a subject, and a receptacle of forms; and saith that it was not distinguished by any quantity, nor by any degree. And because that out of this first subject innumerable things were to be produced, Anaxagoras disputeth how that in the same were contained infinite forms and numbers not limited, which the only understanding and thought creator of all things had drawn out in effect. And this Aristotle attributeth to nature, though sometimes he seemeth to distinguish this nature from God, and make them companions, oftentimes repeating these words [God, and Nature made] or [made nothing without cause.] Now for us we know, that that nature which the philosophers called disposing & distinguishing, can be nothing else but God only, as appeareth by sundry reasons which we have heretofore deduced. Wherefore holding this to be confessed, we must be sure, that the perpetual generation of things, declareth that it is a matter which hath at first been made by some other means. For corn cometh of the earth, and of humour: animals of seed, and of blood or eggs: ashes are made by wood, and there is nothing so little but it is made of some subject. But in all these generations, it is necessary that something remain, from which they are drawn in their first original. When then any creature is engendered by another, if the form perish, and any thing do remain, it must (of necessity) be the matter: 
Nothing can clean perish.  which the corruption itself doth manifest, because that nothing can wholly perish so long as it is corrupted. For the apple perisheth, and is converted into worms, so is the wood into cinders when it is burned: so water changeth itself into vapours and smoke by the heat of the fire, or of the sun. Now all vapour and smoke is something, for it can stifle a man, and if it be received and gathered into a vessel, it turneth to drops of water. Behold then how manifest it is, that in all this vniuers there is a certain thing hidden under every form, which is not made by common generation, nor yet doth perish by corruption: and which like some prime subject, being divided under many and sundry forms, we call, as we have already said, the first matter not engendered, permanent, because it perisheth not, but remaineth and consisteth according to the effect thereof. And when we compare it to the forms, we say that it is by power the same which they are, because that it can receive all forms: so that the matter of a child being form, is said to be a child by power; and by effect it is the subject, whereof the child may consist: for it is a mixture so fashioned, and such as one may see it. But when it is compared to the form of the child, it is simply called a matter by power: for if it were such by effect, than were it a child of itself, & not a subject of him. So then by the consent of all Philosophers, there is a certain gross matter disfurnished of forms, but capable of all, though by nature it be deprived of all. For which cause also they establish with this matter, privation, 
Of privation of the changing cause.  for a beginning of natural things. And mounting higher, they consider of a changing or working cause, by force whereof, the matter being wrought and mollified, which is only in power, is at length actually performed: even as wax being plied and softened by handling and working in the hand is fashioned into divers forms, according to the will of him that doth it. 
Of the final cause.  And because that nature doth nothing at adventure, but all for some good purpose: thence it is that the final cause is by some considered as a principle. 
Of the form.  And likewise because that the nearest end of the working cause is the form, which it taketh out of the bosom of the matter, and that for this intent it worketh and mouldeth it, to the end to reduce it to a perfect estate to receive a form: for these causes Aristotle constituteth the form for the third principle. The which cannot be drawn out of the womb of the matter, except it be first disposed, and prepared by convenient qualities: and therefore the Philosophers say, that about them the maker bestoweth and emploieth all his labour, and all the time of the action, to the end that the species may presently appear in a point & moment unseparable, as it were for the wages of his pains. But the Peripatetics call the worker the cause, rather than a principle. And the followers of Plato, being more clear-sighted in sacred mysteries, do teach, that although the natural causes do appear to us of themselves, forming, fashioning, 
Th●● naturals causes 〈◊〉 principles.  and moulding every body: yet nevertheless are they not the prime and first causes of every thing that is made, but rather instruments of the divine art to whom they serve and obey: even as the hands of a cunning workman though they compose, place and change the whole matter of an house, as wood, stone, and mortar, and that nothing besides them may be seen, whereto the fashion of the edifice might be attributed: yet are they known of us to be an instrument obeying and serviceable to the Idea, which being seated in the mind of the Architect, he performeth and acteth with his hands in sensible matter, the work which he hath conceived. And for this occasion the Academics speak of these two causes (the instrumental and the exemplary cause) when they entreat of the framing of all things. Which me thinketh is often confirmed by the Peripatetics, when this axiom is read in their writings, [Every work of nature is the work of Intelligence.] And both the one and the other do confess, that God hath drawn all things out of the matter. But because that for to draw them out, the matter must necessarily be presupposed, and the form which thereof is fashioned must be conceived, as also the power or application and disposition of the said matter: 
Three principles according to Aristotle.  Thereupon are sprung the three principles of natural things which Aristotle ordaineth; to wit, matter, form, and privation. Which opinion Pythagoras seemed to lean unto; teaching that in the first production of things, there were present the Even and the Odd: for the Even (according to the doctrine of those which do philosophically discourse by numbers) and principally the binary (or number of two) signifieth the matter, and the uneven or odd betokeneth the form. Moreover, the degrees of forms and things composed, are excellently and harmoniously distributed by the Even and Odd numbers, as by their writings we may easily learn. But let us note, that that which the Pythagorians signify by numbers, Plato doth abundantly describe by greatness and smallness: because all that which is, doth retain a greater or less degree of essence and perfection, which nevertheless is distinguished by even and odd numbers. And if one speak of bodies, every one of them hath a great, little, or mean quantity: which likewise is by the same numbers limited and distinguished.  
But to leave the curious disputation concerning these things to the Philosophers, and so to grow to the conclusion of our speech concerning the principles of natural and corruptible things; we must call that into our memory, which we have already declared: how that the matter stood in need of a worker and maintainer. Now this same is none other, 
Of one alone, and only principle.  but the alone and only principle of principles, and the cause of causes, God omnipotent, author of the universe: who being a sovereign worker, hath produced out of the subject by him created all compound bodies. From whom likewise it is necessary, that all forms do flow, whether they be drawn out of the bosom of the matter (as some Philosophers affirm) or proceed without any means of the forme-giver, as many learned dispute; for he must always be said to be engendering and producing, which draweth the matter into an effect by any manner whatsoever. Moreover, 
Motion, and place set by some for principles.  some subtle spirits do account among the principles of natural things Motion and Place. For they say that the principle Motion seemeth to be naturally in all bodies; of which some, as light, are carried aloft; others, as heavy, descend down: and yet are they not forcibly driven; for then violently they would return to their proper place. Neither are they drawn: for the place is an accident and draweth no element at all. Then forsomuch as all motion is made in place, it seemeth very well that it must be set for one of the principles of all things. Now place is the supreme superficies of every body, environing the same round about: which superficies remaineth, the body being separated. And every place is equal to the body therein contained. Every body likewise is in a place, and in every place is a body. For every body hath his extreme superficies, and the place cannot be without a body, considering that every place is the highest superficies containing a body. And when the place is taken in regard of the roundness of the heavens, it is immutable, insomuch as it containeth the entire body of the universe. But being considered as the superficies of any particular body, it is changed by the divers disposition and alteration of the creatures, and remaineth not always the same. Behold then that which I have thought worthy to be summarily noted in regard of the principles whereof the Philosopher's dispute, and of which, and by which, namely of the form and first matter, the sensible elements of all corruptible things do consist and are composed. Whereof we are according to the course of our talk to inform ourselves, as [AMANA) you shall presently do.   

Of the elements, and of things to be considered in them in that they are distinguished by the number of four. Chap. 38.  AMANA. 
WHen we take the heaven in his most proper signification, we mean thereby the firmament, and the celestial spheres, which cover and encompass all things that are in the universal world. But heaven is likewise taken oftimes for the air, and for the regions next to the spheres, because they approach nearest to the nature of them, and for that they be elements drawn out of the first principles for the composition of corruptible things. And yet in the division of the world there are commonly mentioned but two principal parts: that is, the celestial and the elementary part, as we have heretofore related. Now under this last part, whereof our ensuing discourse must entreat, we must understand all that, which is comprehended within the concavity or hollow vault of heaven, under the Moon, even to the centre of the earth: 
Of the elementary region.  that is, the four simple elements, which are Fire, air, Water and Earth, incessantly employed in the generation and corruption of all creatures, under the which part we comprise all the divers and innumerable species of all bodies, both perfect and imperfect, 
The number and qualities of the elements.  materially engendered by the natural commixture and power of the said elements. Which cannot be in number above four; that is just so many, and neither more nor less than there are first qualities predominant in them, which are heat, moisture, cold and dryness; which nevertheless alone and by themselves do not constitute an element: for they cannot have the power both to do and to suffer; as it is needful that there should be in the generation and corruption of all things: neither can the foresaid qualities consist above two together, for fear least contrary things should be found in one self same subject; but being joined two and two, they are correspondent the one to the other, as the qualities of heat and dryness, which are in the fire: the heat & moisture, which are in the air: cold & moisture, which are in the water: and cold & dryness, which are in the earth. But heat & cold which are active qualities, and moisture & dryness which are passive qualities, are altogether contrary. And therefore can they not consist both together in one self same element: 
Situation of the elements.  whereupon it cometh to pass, that the fire & the water, the air & the earth are clean contrary one to another, which causeth also that the fire, as the most subtle & lightest element tending naturally upwards, is placed above the other three elements, and environeth the air round about, which agreeth in heat with it: which air encompasseth the water, agreeing therewith in moisture: and the water is dispersed about the earth, and agreeth therewith in coldness; and the same earth, as the most heavy and hardest element, is heaped and compacted together in the midst of the whole world, containing the centre thereof. It is certain, that the water environeth not the earth clean round about, but is spread abroad by divers arms, branches, and lakes (which we call seas) as well within, as about the same: for so it was necessary that some parts of the earth might be uncovered, for the health and habitation of living creatures; so as it hath pleased the sovereign king of the world to ordain for the benefit of all things.  
There are then four elements & first foundations of things compounded, and subject to corruption. 
How the number of four is note-woorthy in divers things.  And by this number of four perfectly consonant, the elementary world is divided into these four parts: the fiery, the airy, the watery, and the earthy part: so also is this terrestrial frame distinguished into four points, to wit; East, West, North, and South, as we know the like to be in the celestial bodies. And by their divers motions and courses we obtain the four seasons of the year, to wit, the spring, summer, autumn, and winter. From whence likewise proceedeth all aid and favour to the substance and composition of the creatures comprised under these four kinds, that is, corporal, vegetable, sensitive, and reasonable creatures, which subsist of these four qualities, hot, cold, moist, and dry. We likewise see that all quantity is divided into four, to wit, into a point, into a length, breadth, and depth. There are also four sorts of motion: ascending, descending, progression and turning round. Moreover if we will here draw out some mysteries of the Pythagorians, we shall know, that all the foundation of every deep study and invention, must be settled upon the number of four, because it is the root and beginning of all numbers, which exceed four. For a unity being joined to a four, maketh up ten: and in this number all the rest to ten are found: as may appear in this figure [1. 2. 3. 4.] Above which number of ten (as Aristotle in his problems, and Hierocles in his verses upon Pythagoras reciteth) no land, nor language hath ever proceeded. For the Hebrues, Greeks', Latins, and Barbarians themselves being come so far as to ten, begin again with an unity; saying (11. 12.) and so forward, imitating nature guided by her sovereign, who by the order of ten parteth the fingers of the hands, and toes of the feet: as the same creator would distribute the terrestrial, celestial, and supercelestial world by this number of ten, as the divinity of the Hebrues doth teach, and as we have heretofore made mention. The which number likewise doth contain all manner of numbers be they even, odd, square, long, plain, perfect, cubical, pyramidal, prime, or compound numbers. And thereby, that is, by denary proportions, four cubical numbers are accomplished: so four is the root of ten, and ten of an hundred, and an hundred of a thousand. For as 1. 2. 3. and 4. make ten: so by ten are hundreds made; and by hundreds, thousands. Moreover four containeth all musical harmony, because that therein is the proportion double, triple, quadruple, of so much and an half, and of so much & a third: whereof resulteth the diapason, the bisdiapason, diapente, diatesseron, and diapason together with diapente. For this cause Hierocles the interpreter of Pythagoras, doth so extol this number of four, that he affirmeth it to be the cause of all things, and that nothing can be said or done, which proceedeth not from it, as from the root and foundation of all nature. And therefore did the Pythagorians swear by this number, as by some holy thing, making (as may be easily conjectured) allusion to that great fower-lettered name of the Hebrues, 
The name of God foure-lettered.  from whom they received their instructions. Which name of the holy of holies, God eternal and most good, requireth no fewer letters among the Greeks' and Latins, no not amongst the most barbarous nations: wherein one may directly believe that great mysteries are hidden.  

That the four elements do found all doctrine, and art.  But not to wander farther from our elementary region: as therein we acknowledge four elements; so many likewise are there in the Metaphysics, to wit, the essence, the estate, the virtue, and the action. The naturalist also teacheth four nurses of nature, to wit, power, growth, the form grown, and the composition. And the Mathematicians have these four elements, the point, the line, the plain, and the solid. And that which the point is in the Mathematics, the same is the seminary power in the Physics: the line is as the natural growth: the plain or superficies as the form perfect in greatness, and the  or cube, or deep body, as the composition. There are amongst the moral philosophers also four seeds of virtues, prudence, temperateness or temperance, fortitude and justice. And there are four faculties found to judge of things, that is, understanding, discipline, opinion, and the senses. Artificers likewise accustom to settle their buildings upon four corners, to the end they may be firm and durable: wherein they imitate nature, which worketh so in all this world. And the sovereign governor thereof hath willed, that there should be four foundations of the most perfect, eternal, and firm law of grace, to wit, the four Evangelists. 
Agreement of the elements.  It then plainly appeareth, that not without great mystery the creator settled four foundations of all this mundane frame: which in admirable proportion do accord together, as all square numbers, which are enclosed by a proper number, refer themselves by a middle proportional to both sides. For (as we have said) the elements are agreeable one to another, with their coupled qualities, whereof each retaineth one peculiar quality to itself, and agreeth in the other, as by a mean with the next element. So that the four elements are (as if each one of them had two hands, by which they held one another) as in a round dance: or else, as if they were conjoined and linked together, as with chains and buckles. And therefore the water is moist and cold, retaining the moisture as peculiar to itself, and in coldness participating with the nature of the earth: by the moisture thereof, it is also allied unto the air; which also in some measure participateth in heat with the nature of fire. Wherefore as the earth accordeth in coldness with the water; so is the water answerable in moisture to the air; and the air is correspondent in heat to the fire: retaining yet nevertheless each of them one proper & predominant quality. But above all, the Academics have invented a goodly concord between these elements, in their discourses of the quadruple proportion; from which only their musical proportions do proceed: for if one pass farther, men's ears seem to be offended. They say then, 
Of the harmony of the elements.  that the fire is twice more subtle than the air, thrice more movable, and four times more piercing. Likewise that the air is twice more sharp than the water, thrice more subtle, and four times more movable. Again that the water is twice more sharp than the earth, thrice more subtle, and fower-times more movable. And in this proportion have they found out the harmony of the elements, and showed, that though the fire be sharp, subtle, and movable; the air subtle, movable, and moist; the water movable, moist, and corporal; the earth corporal, immovable, and dry; yet is there a certain accord and union between them: because that betwixt the fire and the earth, the air and water have been placed by such a covenant, that there is the same respect betwixt the fire and the air, that is between the air and the water; and between the water and the earth: and again, that such as the earth is towards the water; such is the water towards the air, and the air towards the fire, in correspondency of qualities, and harmonious contrariety. Wherefore they conclude, that the harmony is on all sides so great among the elements, that it is no marvel if in their proper places, and in their compounds, they maintain and repose themselves with very great and friendly concord. Whereby it appeareth, that none can induce a goodlier reason, why the water doth not overflow the earth being higher than it; then to say, that it will not serve from this agreement. But further concerning this matter, what shall we say of those, which accept but of three elements; namely the air, the water, and the earth; and reject the elementary fire? I would feign hear you (ARAM) discourse thereof.   

Of the opinion of those who admit but three elements, not acknowledging the elementary fire. Chapter 39  ARAM. 
Between the lowest place and the highest, it is necessary that there should be two places simply mean, to wit, the places not exactly lowest, nor highest. And for that consideration some of the learned conclude, that there be so many simple bodies made, and consisting of the prime and first matter, which are called by the Greeks' (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) that is, beginnings or elements, & of those proceedeth the generation of all corruptible things. And if probable arguments may ought prevail, each one must acknowledge four elements in all compound bodies, as the most part of those, who have diligently considered the works of nature, are of opinion. Now there is none that can doubt of the earth, of the water, and of the air, because of their greatness and huge extension seen by every eye. But for the fire, we only see the increase, the power, and simple matter thereof, and his force or fountain is esteemed to be in the concavity of the moon above the air. 
Of such as say that there is no fire under the sphere of the moon.  Yet some among the natural Philosophers affirm and maintain, that there is no fire under the orb of the moon: neither will acknowledge any other elementary fire, but the fires of the celestial bodies, and the heat of them, which they communicate to all the rest of the creatures. And therefore they assign to these fires all the space, which is from the moon to the highest heaven. Saying moreover, that sith the heaven is a thing most pure, it is not convenient to place a thing most burning under that which is exempt from all quality. For nature doth always join extremities with things of mean quality: as is found betwixt the flesh and the bones where she hath placed a film or thin skin; and between the bones and the ligatures, she hath put the gristles: so betwixt the skull and the brain, because it is softer than flesh, nature hath placed two films, the hardest whereof is nearest to the bone of the head. Thereupon than they conclude, that the air is much fit than the fire to be next the heavens, and serve as a mean to join them with the earth and water. And against it they argue, that swiftness of motion is the cause or argument of the heat, and that there is no other fire: others again avouch, that this cannot be. For (say they) although that  substances may by motion be heated (as stones, lead, and living creatures) yet those which disperse or scatter themselves abroad, become thereby so much the colder, by how much they are more lightly moved, witness the air and the water. For all strong and swift winds are cold, and rivers that have a quick course are very cold. Again those that deny the elementary fire, 
Reasons of such as deny the fire to environ the air.  do bring this argument; to wit, that the comets and flames which oftentimes do appear in the heavens, do cause in the air very great and as it were intolerable heats: Therefore they demand, what might happen if the universal world, especially the elementary, were environed by fire, who could hinder but that that fire would inflame the air, and after it all other things, sith the heat of the celestial bodies would thereto give aid? They add how Auerrois doth esteem that all brightness is hot, and that the air is such: and that every moist quality doth least of all other resist heat. How then (say they) shall the air resist the fire which is the most vehement, and most sharp of all elements? It is true that this Arabic author hath said, that sometimes the fire is not actually hot: but what then shall be his possibility? We say that some medicines are hot by possibility, because that being taken they heat woondrously. But by what creatures shall the fire be devoured, to the end to reduce it to the quality of medicines? Moreover, if the fire be not hot, then is not the water cold: which should be to confound all reason, and the very order of the world. Again, they demand what it is that letteth the fire, that it shineth not, and that it is not seen in the elementary region? Again, if fire be in the air, why then, the higher we mount, do we find the air more cold, and why do snows more abound on the mountain tops, then in the lowest places, yea under the torrid zone? Which nevertheless might not seem strange, if one should consider, how snow falleth in winter only, and very cold hail in midst of summer, the cause whereof we shall hereafter discover. But (say they) if one should object that the highest places are farthest remote from the reverberation of the sun: this may be an argument of less heat, but not of coldness. In fine they add, that if heat were in the highest of the air in an elementary body, it should principally there rest, for to cause the generation of things. Now for this reason it cannot be there, considering that the celestial heat is it that doth engender, as all Philosophers maintain. Thereupon they conclude, that this imagination of fire above the air is vain. It seemeth also that be a thing never so light, as is the fire; yet can it not mount so exceeding high: and to say that it was carried aloft, only conjecturing so, and that the place thereof must be there, such Rhetorical arguments are not worth rehearsing in serious matters.  

Answer to many reasons which are alleged to prove four elements.  There are some also, which to the reasons by us before touched in the beginning of this speech, do reply; that it seemeth they do not conclude that there be four simple bodies, but rather the contrary. For, for the first betwixt two extremes one mean (& not two) is commonly assigned: which being considered in regard of the elements, there should only be three in number. And for this vulgar opinion, that in all compound bodies there are esteemed to be four elements; the heat which is in mixed and compound substances cannot consist of elementary fire: For if the fire should remain in them, it should much more rest in the herb called (Euphorbium) and in Pepper, which are of an extreme hot and dry nature; and therefore one might more commodiously get fire out of them then out of most cold stones, which yet we find to be clean contrary. Moreover, the distillations wherein many strain themselves to search the four elements, do demonstrate but three substances only, to wit, water for water, oil instead of air, and the earth which is in the bottom. Now if that any do say that the reddest part of the oil doth represent the fire, because it is very sharp and very subtle, we will answer, that such piercing sharpness of savour proceedeth from the vehement virtue of the fire, which operateth in the distillation. Which likewise doth manifestly appear in the oil extracted from metals: every part whereof is of a very sharp savour. Wherefore if every thing of such a quality representeth the fire, it must follow of necessity, that in every such essence no portion of air may subsist. But all the world doth allege, that there may four humours be perceived to remain in the bodies of all living creatures. And yet what availeth that to prove so many elements? Nay, what if I should say with Thrusianus expounder of Galen upon the art of Physic; that there are but three humours only? But leave we this disputation, and let us speak of a more strong and forcible argument, taken from the combinations and conjunctions of the elementary qualities which are in number four, as we have heard in our precedent discourse. They alone then and apart do not constitute an element; for they cannot have the power to do and to suffer: neither also can they consist more than two togegither; for else, contraries should remain in one self same subject. Neither can heat be joined with cold without some mean, nor dry with moist: Whereupon doth follow that the qualities not contrary, being joined two and two together, do declare unto us four well ordered combinations or couple, which do argue unto us the four elements. But hearken what the adverse part answereth: Such conjunctions and copulations do only show themselves in mixtures and compound bodies: for some things being hot in the first degree, are also moist; and some being cold, are dry: others are hot and dry; others cold and moist; and so consquently of the rest. But for the elements because that heat and great dryness had reduced all things to an end, in steed of ministering a beginning unto them; Nature, or rather the author of Nature, 
Of the celestial heat producing fire.  hath ordained a celestial heat well tempered, by which all things should be engendered: And by it, and by putrefaction and motion, the creature called Fire is incessantly produced. Whereupon ensueth, that though there be a fire, yet nevertheless it is no element: And therefore they conclude, that there are but three elements. The earth most thick and heavy seated below: the air most thin and light placed above: and the water mean betwixt these qualities situate between both. They also affirm, that unto these elements it is common to have no natural heat: because there is no heat, but from the heavens, and consequently from the soul, and from brightness: That the earth because it is exceeding thick and , and the air, because it is beyond measure thin, seem to be least cold: but the water which is of mean substance between both, seemeth to be most cold. That the earth, because of some certain thinness thereof, admitteth heat: and therefore is esteemed less cold than stones. And the air because of the temperate clearness, and for that by the thinness thereof it is easily changed, is esteemed not only not to be cold, but to be hot, though in truth all the elements are cold by their own nature. Which coldness is nothing else, but privation of heat, which heat doth wholly rest in the stars, & which is a proper celestial quality moving the body, which aided by motion produceth fire. But (say they) many may be deceived by reason of the violent heat, which sometimes maketh impression in the elements. For by the action of the stars, some parts of the elements are mixed and participate with the nature of the celestial bodies, as Pepper becometh hot: And yet such mingling cannot be said to be an element, but a thing composed partly of elements. And for the fire which lighteth by the striking and beating of stones, that it is likewise an heat of the stars in a body rarefied by the celestial power. By these reasons than they conclude, that two qualities do only appear unto us, the heat of heaven, and the proper moisture of the elements: and as for dry and cold, that they be the privations of those qualities: and that therefore a thing very hot, or very cold cannot properly be called an element: 
What an element is.  but that that may be said to be an element, which hath no need of nourishment, which of itself is not corrupt, neither wandereth here and there, but retaineth a certain place in great quantity according to nature, and is prepared for generation. All which things not agreeing with the fire, because it is always moved, neither can subsist without nurture; and burneth the air which is next it, whereby being inflamed, it is called a flame (for flame is nothing else, but the air inflamed:) it followeth that it cannot be called an element, but rather an accidental and great heat. Behold then how Philosophers do diversly dispute upon this matter: but our intention is not to give sentence therein, especially against the ancient, and generally confirmed opinion, which admitteth four elements. Wherefore as leaning thereunto, tell us (ACHITOB) how they may be considered by the perfect compositions which are in the world.   

Of the perfect compositions which are in the nature of all things, by which the four elements may be considered. Chap. 40.  ACHITOB. 
ACcording as we are taught by those, who have first diligently sought out the secrets of nature, we shall consider an elementary fire, and the element thereof, approaching the heavenly spheres, by reason of the natural agreement which they have together, being much greater than there is of the heavens with the air, the water and the earth. Now these four elements do demonstrate themselves by the like number of perfect compounds, 
The agreement of stones with the earth.  which follow the nature of them: to wit, by stones, metals, plants, and animals or sensitive creatures. For stones have their foundation or original upon the earthy corner of this world's frame: because that agreeing with the nature of earth, they descend always towards the centre, except they be such as are over-dried and burned; as are the pumice-stones which are made spongy in caves full of air. But when they are turned into dust, then resuming their proper nature of stones, they descend. Crystal and the beryl are also numbered among stones: because that though they may be engendered of water, they are nevertheless so congealed and in manner frozen, that being made earthy they descend downwards; which is not the manner of frost and snow. So is it with those stones that are bred in the bladder, though they be produced of a watery humour. And all these kinds of stones become so close and  in their nature, with such fastness and binding, that they cannot be melted like metals: although the said metals descend downwards like stones. 
Metals agreeing with the water.  And therefore also upon the second watery angle of the elementary world, metals are builded: which though they be said to be composed of all the elements, yet because they are principally made of water, they retain the nature thereof, and will melt, as Abubacher doth excellently discourse, speaking thus: [We see in mines, that by reason of the continual heat of some mountains, the thickest of the water steweth and boileth so, that in tract of time it becometh quicksilver. And of the fat of the earth so stewed and boiled together with heat, is brimstone engendered, and through continual heat also are metals procreated. For gold that hath no default is engendered of quicksilver, and of brimstone that is pure, tough, clear, and red. Silver of the same liquid silver, and of close, pure, clear and white sulphur; wherein colour wanteth, and something of the closeness & sureness, and consequently of weight. Tin, that is more unperfect, is engendered of the same causes, and parts unperfect, because they are less concocted and attenuated. Led, of the same terrestriall-siluer, and full of filth, deprived of pureness and sureness: and of gross sulphur or brimstone somewhat red, whereto wanteth fastness, clearness, and weight: which makes this metal unperfect and impure. And Iron is procreated of the same quicksilver, impure, tough, part earthy and burnt, white, and not clear: which maketh this metal base and foul, failing in pureness and in weight. All which metals being made of quicksilver, which is watery, do (for this cause) retain the nature of the water.] To this author accordeth Avicen in his Physics, and in the epistle to Hazem the philosopher. But Gilgil the Spaniard supposed that metals had been engendered of cinders, because they sink in water, and melt like the glass, which is drawn from terrestriall-cinders, and beaten stone. But this concludeth not: for metal sinketh and descendeth, by reason of that terrestrial part which it hath incorporated with the liquid part, and because that the pores which retain the air, are closed and shut up. And for glass, it is not extracted out of the earthy matter, but out of the radical moisture, which is within the cinders and stones. For in every compound are the four elements, though the nature of one hath more domination therein. For this cause likewise plants are founded upon the third angle of the world, called airy: 
Concord of the plants with the air.  for they do not grow nor fructify, but in open day, and do properly retain the nature of the air, which they always require, as being fittest and aptest for them. Yea the wood itself would presently corrupt and rot, being deprived of the air, if the watery humour do not secure it, which participateth with the air. Finally upon the fourth angle of this fower-faced edifice, to wit, 
Animals accord with the fire.  upon the fire, is the living sensitive creature built, whose life (as many learned do teach) is by means of fire, and obtained from the Empyreal heaven, and from the spirit of life, which is a quickening fire, and distributeth life to all the mundane wheels: as we may learn by the oracles of Ezechiel, saying, 
Ezech. 1.  [And the spirit of life was in the wheels.] Behold then, how upon the four bases of the elements are planted four sorts of perfect compounds, to wit, stones, metals, plants, and living creatures.  
True it is, that under every universal kind of these, there are divers particular species distinct the one from the other: for although stones may be properly earthy, yet are they sometimes nominated of some other element, which most prevaileth in their composition. For doubtless all the elements do meet together in the procreation of them, but chief earth and water. Whereupon obscure and thicke-darke stones are called earthie-stones; and clear transparent stones, watery; 
Diversity of the nature of stones.  and some also are melted by a great fire, to be turned into glass. Some also with rain falling drop by drop are engendered in the shells of oysters; as those pearls which are found in the Indian and Britain seas. The crystal and beryl are made of water frozen, void of pores or subtle passages, so that they can neither receive heat nor be melted. It appeareth also, that there is fire in the composition of stones, which likewise is forced out of the flint being strooken with a gad of steel. To which purpose Hermes amongst his secrets teacheth, that a stone doth sometimes spring out of the fire, mounting from earth to heaven, and then again returning to the earth, that nourished it. For metals likewise, 
Diversity of the metals.  though they be watery, some of them do nevertheless retain the nature of fire, as gold and iron, one of which imitateth the fire of the sun, and the other the fire of Mars. But tin and copper are airy, this receiving influence from Venus, that from jupiter. Silver agreeth with the moon, Led with Saturn, quicksilver with Mercury: and yet all of them are endued with a watery nature, & will melt, and do differ in weight. For as one water doth differ in weight from another; so doth metal from metal, not only in special, but also in undivisible proportion. For common gold differeth in weight from that which the Latins call (Obrysum) or else (Ofiryzum) of the Hebrew word (Ofir) which we call (fine gold) and which hath been oftentimes purged and refined in the fire, and wasteth not therein. The gold of Tharsis also doth differ from the gold of India and Hungary, and so of others. So likewise do waters differ in goodness and in weight, according to the region and place wherein they are: and by how much they are nearer to the fountain, by so much are they better and lighter. And by their weight (as vitrvuius will have it) one may know the goodness of the air: according to which he willeth men to choose out places to build houses in. Concerning plants, although they may be by nature airy, 
A different property of the plants.  yet there are some, whose roots, juice, leaves, and blossoms are said to be hot in the first, second, third, or fourth degree; and others are cold and dry; some also are moist: which diversity happeneth, according as the plant obtaineth more or less of the nature of one of the elements. 
Diversity of nature in animalibus.  The like is of living creatures. For though they may properly be said to be of the nature of fire, yet are there some, which being more earthy, delight in the earth, as moles, worms, and commonly all creeping things. Likewise all fishes are nourished by the water: the chameleon by the air: the salamander by fire, as some affirm, because that he long time endureth fire through his excessive coldness. There are some also which burn with great heat, as doves and lions: some are cooled with moisture, as the lamb; and some are dry, as hares and dear. But nevertheless in regard of their life they are all especially of the nature of fire distinguished by degrees: wherefore divers names have been assigned to them, being borrowed from the elements or from their qualities.  

Of the celestial and supercelestial elements.  And besides all this which we have here discoursed concerning the elements, which may be found in the perfectly compounded substances of this elementary world, many learned men affirm, that they are also resident in the celestial and supercelestial world. But that as they are here thick and gross: so by a contrary reason they are pure and clean in heaven, and in it living and every where well doing. They say then, that these celestial elements are as the worthiest & excellent portion of those, which subsist under the moones-sphere in the second degree, and which remain also in the bowels of the earth as the most base and gross lees of the elements. And that in heaven they are certain virtues or powers; and in nature the seeds of things; and in the world below gross forms. For (as they argue) if there were no elementary powers in heaven, how then by the celestial influences should these elements here below be engendered and transformed: in such sort as that which now is air may be converted into rain, the water exhaled into air, the earth turned into wood, which nourisheth the fire, and from the wood riseth air, and ashes fall, which is earth? For these causes also it is very likely that the Astronomers distinguish the signs of the Zodiac and the Planets by the elements, attributing three signs to every of them, as we have already declared. But we shall find enough to content us concerning this matter, when we discourse particularly as touching the firm concord which remaineth betwixt the terrestrial elements and the Planets. Which (AMANA) let be the subject of your morrow speech.  
The end of the fift day.    

THE sixth DAYS WORK.  

Of the agreement betwixt the Elements and the Planets. Chap. 41.  ASER. 
AS the celestial spheres do follow that universal & common course which the first heaven that containeth and encloseth them all doth begin, beside the motions that are proper & peculiar to each of them (as we have already heretofore declared:) so must we in like sort note, that the elements do follow the heavens, & observe an order after them, every one in his degree, having their motions also agreeable to their nature. And that likewise there is betwixt them and the celestial bodies, a certain accord and answerableness of powers and qualities aptly proportioned by degrees, even as is found in all creatures compounded of them. We will then first entreat of this agreement betwixt the elements and the heavens; 
agreeableness of the earth with the moon.  beginning with the earth, which is correspondent to the moon in divers respects. For as the earth draweth the water to it, and soaketh it up, in such sort that it is numbered by the Sages amongst those things which are never satisfied, to wit, with water: so doth the moon with a perpetual attraction draw the water, making it sometimes to rise, to wit, when from the oriental Horizon she cometh to the midst of heaven, from whence descending to the occidental Horizon she carrieth it away with her with such violence, that it seemeth to fly from us. Again, when the moon runneth in the point opposite to the mid heaven, she draweth the water away with her; then returning again to the eastern Horizon, she causeth it to follow after her in like sort. When she increaseth also she draweth up the humours in trees and men's bodies; when she waineth, she chaseth them down. Again, the earth and moon do agree in the first qualities of cold and dry, wherewith the earth is actually, and the moon operatively replenished, which also (according to her nature being somewhat terrestrial) doth sup up the celestial waters, and all the influences of the bodies above her, which as nearest to us, she doth communicate with us. For she receiveth from the other planets, and principally from the sun, that which she distributeth here below. And therefore Plato in his Banquet saith, 
The moon and earth singular in variety.  That the moon participateth with the sun and with the earth. Moreover, the moon is singular in variety: whence it cometh to pass, that one while she is crooked with horns, another time divided into equal proportions or halves; then being full round, she is here and there bespotted: sometimes she seemeth unmeasurably great in her round fullness; presently after she appeareth very small: now she showeth very fair towards the north; afterwards again she is couched in the south: so within a few days she submitteth herself to conjunction, and by and by is she full and big; presently after she is delivered of the fruit, which she had conceived. Now in this great changeableness, the moon doth show us that the earth is like unto her. For now being disrobed of her ornaments, she appeareth black: afterwards being painted and adorned with herbs and flowers, she seemeth very fair. One part thereof is stony, another part is marish. In one place it is lean, in another place fat; here abased in valleys, there lift up in mountains: here fertile, & yonder barren. One part is chequered with divers spots, this red, that black, one white, & another brown. One portion is close and clammy; another thin and sandy. Moreover the earth is sometimes void and empty, and then she receiveth the conjunction of the planets, whereby in short space being filled, she bringeth forth fruit. So then the moon amongst the stars, and the earth amongst the elements do agree in many particulars.  
Now as touching the water, 
The water correspondent to mercury.  it seemeth to be answerable to Mercury and to Saturn also. For the order of the planets, and the correspondency which they have to things here below, did require, that next after the earthly moon, watery Mercury should be situate, whom poets have named (the Arbiter or umpire of the waters) then followeth next airy Venus, and after her the sun, which is of the nature of fire. Then again Mars participating of the same force, hath his seat next above the sun: airian jupiter above Mars: waterish Saturn over jupiter: and the signe-bearing heaven above Saturn, as answering to the earth; then higher again is the first movable, of the nature of fire. It is certain that the nature of Mercury is by so much more hard to be deciphered, by how much his star is more hidden and hard to be seen, and that very seldom too. And therefore do Astronomers affirm, that his influent power is secret, by reason that he easily accepting the nature of the planet wherewith he is conjoined, or of the sign wherein he is resident, seemeth to operate, not according to his own proper nature, but as the executor of the influence of another. Whereupon he is by them nominated (Hermes) to signify, that he is as it were interpreter of the other stars intendments. For by the testimony of Ptolemie, he drieth up being with the Sun; he cooleth with the Moon; he favoureth the understanding with Saturn; he bestoweth advise & policy in warlike affairs, where stoutness is required, with Mars: and conjoined to Venus, he engendereth the 
* One that is of both sexes.  Anerogyne or Hermaphrodite: which must be understood concerning him, who exerciseth subtlety of wit, which he receiveth from Mercury, in the second, Venus, which is disordinate. For such a man is effeminate, retaining the property of both sexes. So that Mercury agreeing with the reasonable discourse and favouring the same, as he is turned towards the superior stars, or else towards the inferior; he likewise produceth divers effects, in so much that his property cannot easily be comprehended. And yet may he very aptly be said to be of the nature of water, as many Philosophers are of opinion, considering that the order of the planets requireth (to observe the harmony and league of things here below with those above) that he should be watery. Moreover, as water doth in washing, take away the spot that covereth, in such sort that the naked bare form doth appear: so Mercury contributing favour to the promptness and subtlety of men's wits, is to them as an interpreter, taking away the vail from strange languages, obscureness from riddles and parables, and difficulty from every profound and mystical speech: and opening that which is shut up in the secret cabinets of God and nature, presenteth the naked truth to be contemplated. Neither must we think that the star of Mercury performeth this, but so far as it may operate in bodies by disposing, or else as an instrument of the divine omnipotency, as we have heretofore declared.  

Concordance of the air with Venus.  Let us now speak of the air. It seemeth to be answerable in nature to Venus, which is hot and moist: And by the foresaid order of the planets succession in course, that it must be referred to jupiter. For this cause the Astronomers have dedicated to Venus the airy living creatures. For even as the air & wind coupleth and conjoineth things severed, so doth the Venerean power: whereupon we will note, that the Academics taught how that there were two Venuses, the one Etherian, and the other Aërian: the highest, cleanest, chasteth, and most temperate according with jupiter, and conjoining the superior, divine and spiritual things: the lowest, most disordinate, slippery, variable, and lascivious, which conjoineth in lust the creatures here below. Of this Venus so many ribauldries are sung by wanton Poets, because she is cause of all evil; even as the other is cause of all good. To which speech the saying of Saint Augustine hath relation: namely, that two loves have made two cities. For the well disposed and good love of God, and the love of one neighbour to the despising of one's self, hath edified the city of God. But the perverse love of ones self, to the forgetting of God, hath reared up the city of the devil. Moreover, the Grammarians deliver this reason, why the power of this star is called Venus: because it doth concur in all things, be they good or evil. And surely all is filled with love, and nothing is void thereof, as all things are full of air, which filleth the natural appetite that abhorreth emptiness. By love (saith Boëtius) are the heavens conjoined, and the elements agree with bodies compound. Through it creatures dwell together, the city is preserved, and the common wealth increased. Through love God made the world, and doth govern it: and the sum of all that, which he requireth of us, is love. Saint Denis in his Hierarchy speaketh thus. [The love of God hath not permitted that the king of all things should remain in himself without fruit. And as through love he is spread abroad in all things without himself; so he delighteth to attract all things to himself, and principally man, in whom all is enclosed. And therefore when he shall be united (with God) even so shall all other things be. Whether then that we speak of divine or angelical, or spiritual, or quickening, or natural love, we mean a power engrafted, and conjoining, which moveth the superior things to providence and care, for the good of the inferior, disposeth equal things in a sociable communion, and in fine admonisheth inferior things, that they turn themselves to those that are better and superior.] Thus speaketh this great Doctor and Philosopher. But let us pursue the subject of our discourse. We have declared, that the Academics have taught a double Venus. The like may be said of the Air, for we consider it in two parts, the one thick and foggy, which is next the earth; and the other pure and aetherian next unto the stars: which being heated by force of the wind which mixeth itself in all things, seemeth to be very fit for the propagation and maintenance of nature: for which reason also the wind and the air are called by one name of the Hebrews, who call all things according to their properties.  
Finally, the elementary fire is answerable to the Sun, 
That the fire agreeth with the sun.  and to Mars, who are both of the nature of fire. For as the Sun is the true and celestial fire, boiling all that which appertaineth to the viands of this great animal the world; so this elementary fire causing all things to boil by his great heat, doth perfect the nourishment of creatures living in the earth. Both the one and other fire heateth; but this driving the humours inward, and the other drawing them out. This imparteth his commodity to that only, which is near it; but the superior bestoweth his virtue upon the farthest remote bodies, in such sort that the force of his beams pierceth even to the bowels of the earth, where it boileth and maketh metals, which afterward the elementary fire purgeth. Moreover, as Apollo (so named) as of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is a privative letter in composition, and of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which signifieth multitude, as being he, who alone containeth the power of the heavens and of the stars; or else because that his virtue and power consisteth of many fires, by which he giveth light to all the stars, whose natural vigour produceth not their effects, till such time as they be filled with the powerful seed of this fair Phoebus, who is so called of his beauty & amiableness which shineth in him, as he is also named Sol, as soly-shining; or else by a name amongst the Hebrews, which one may interpret: That which properly doth subsist, because that the light and benefit thereof is proper and peculiar unto him.] As this fair planet (I say) was acknowledged by the ancient Poets and Philosophers, for the inventor of physic, because of the quickening heat & well disposing power thereof: so the fire here beneath doth aptly pattern him, by reason that heating the cold frozen creatures, it doth in a manner restore their life unto them. So it is heat that giveth life and fruitfulness. For eggs are not converted into chickens, nor the silkworm into a butterfly, neither do plants grow, nor yet are living creatures nourished and warmed, except either by the superior, or by the quickening, or by the elementary heat, which by a certain sympathy do seem to be of lemma self-same kind, as it were through a correspondency. Yea the fire is so fruitful, that it engendereth itself, and giveth power to other natural things to engender, not by the heat thereof only, but by the force of the light, which it receiveth from him who hath said, 
Genes. 1.  [I am the light of the world.] Wherefore Moses being desirous to make manifest, that all things had been produced by the benefit of the light after that the matter which he calleth earth turned out of darkness, was made, he saith that presently the light was created: as that by means of which life and form must be given to all things, and aptness to be seen. Which vital vigour did no doubt consist in the divine fire which is called (the spirit of life) the which resting upon the face of the waters, infused into all things the life and the forms, by which every thing might be discerned from other. But let us now return to our elementary world, and particularly behold the nature of the four elements, and of things engendered in them and by them. Then have we enough to stand upon for the common opinion of those, who establish this number of four in that which hath been already declared, and now also in this discourse. Let us first then (AMANA) hear you discourse of the fire, and of the air, and of their marvelous effects.   

Of the fire, and of the air, and of the things engendered in them: and of their motions, and of the Winds. Chap. 42.  AMANA. 
MAny Philosophers do divide all that, which subsisteth under the concave of the Moon, into three parts: one of which they call the highest, the other the middle, and the third the lowest part. The highest they place above the middle region of the air, and make as it were the same element partaker with the most pure fire, which the ancients nominated (Aether) because that there the elements are pure, subtle, thin, & rare, and for that the air there is very temperate and clear, agreeing with the nature of heaven: as to the contrary in the lower part, which is that where we inhabit, there is not any sincere element (for a sensible element is not pure) but all things are there compounded and mixed with the muddy and gross part of this mundane body. And concerning the middle region of the air, it is that very place where the meteors and high impressions do appear. So then above, the elements are pure: beneath, the perfect & composed bodies do fail, by reason of their mixture of the elementary simplicity: & in the middle they compound themselves unperfectly, in such sort, that one may say that they possess the middle place betwixt the nature of the elements and of things compounded. Now as we have said before, and as the common saying of people is, the heaven is often taken for this supreme and middle region of the air, and for the things which are to them conjoined, and do depend upon their effects. 
Of the things conjoined and depending upon the effects of the fire and of the air.  So that in this regard we may understand first two of the four elements, to wit, the air and the fire; then all things engendered in them, and by them; as winds, thunders, lightnings, hail, whirlwinds, clouds, 
Psal. 8. Matth. 6. Luke. 8.  tempests, rain, dews, frosts, snows and all kinds of fire and such like, which arise and appear in the air. And therein we may also comprise all the creatures which converse in it, as birds and all creatures that fly, even as the holy Scripture teacheth us, when it maketh mention of the birds of heaven.  
Now the element of fire is known to have his place nearest to the moon, being by nature hot and dry; and is for this cause lightest, having his motion quicker than all the elements, because that lightness and quickness is proper to these two qualities (heat and dryness) and therefore also the property thereof is to mount always upwards, 
Of the proper nature of the fire, and of the air.  until that it hath attained to the place destinated unto it, being most convenient for the nature thereof, and which joineth next unto the spheres. Next the fire the air possesseth the second place, and agreeth in nature with the fire, in that it is hot: but is contrary thereto in that it is also moist. And therefore the motion thereof followeth that of the fire, but it is not so light and quick by reason of the humidity, which maketh it more heavy and slow. 
That the air is always moved.  And yet it appeareth that it is always moved, because that in narrow places small winds do blow without ceasing. For considering that the air hath the motion thereof tending always upwards, and that it is continually moved up and down, it bloweth in a great space very gently: but passing through a crevisse or straight place, all the violence thereof being drawn together by reason of the narrowness of the place, driveth out & flieth vehemently upon us: after the manner of the waters of great floods, which, when it seemeth that they can scarce flow, being urged through a narrow place, or through sluices, are constrained to run out by much force, with noise and roaring. Moreover according as the air is moved, either by the heat of the sun, or by the vapours and exhalations which this heat causeth to rise out of the waters, and out of the earth, or by the waves of the sea, or by the caves of the earth and such like causes, 
What wind is.  we perceive the air diversly agitated. For we must note that the winds are nothing else but the air, which is moved and driven more violently then ordinary, and which hath his motion more sudden, more violent and strong; being driven and pressed forwards according as the causes are more great or small, and according to the places from whence they proceed. And this is the reason why the air is sometimes so peaceable, that one cannot feel so much as one only small puff of wind: but it is as calm as the sea, when it is not tossed with any wind or tempest. As is evident by those vanes and weathercocks which are set in the tops of turrets and houses: for when the wind bloweth not, their plates are nothing moved: and yet the air doth never fail to blow by reason of the perpetual motion thereof: but insomuch as it is not hoist up and down, it passeth and flieth lightly away, without any noise or bruit towards that part whereto we see the point of the vane inclined. 
Of the diversity of the winds, and of the order and bounds of them.  Sometimes also one may feel some small pleasant and gentle wind to blow without any violence, which is very delectable, recreative, and profitable, not only in regard of men and other living things, but in respect also of all the fruits of the earth. At another time likewise the violence of the winds is so great, that it raiseth up whirlwinds, storms and tempests, which drive the air with such fury and roughness, that it seemeth they would overthrow and confound heaven and earth together, beating down and carrying away all that is before them: like a great deluge and water-floud, which beareth away with it all that it meets with. But though one may suppose so during such tempests, yet the course of the winds are not so confused, but that all of them observe their order and certain places, out of which they issue and proceed, and their bounds likewise whereat they stay, and wherein they are confined, as the element of which they are engendered. And therefore by experience we see, that they follow the course of the Sun, and that they are distributed, and disposed according to all the parts of the world, as we usually divide it, having respect to the moving of the spheres. For as we divide the course of the sun, and all the regions of the earth into East, West, North and South; so must we consider the four principal winds, which proceed out of these four places one opposite to another. Besides which there are certain others which are called collateral winds, because that each of the first hath them upon the one or other side of them, so that those who have ordinarily written concerning the winds, do appoint to the number of twelve common and ordinary winds; saying also, that there are others which are proper to certain regions and countries, according to the nature of their situations and places: as we may hereafter find matter enough thereof amply to entreat.  
But here it will be good to touch one difficulty, which may be alleged upon our discourse, 
Notable things in the diversity of the qualities of the winds and of the air.  touching that which we have said concerning the qualities of the air. For sith that it is hot and moist by nature, and that the winds are nothing else but the same are moved and puffed forwards: what may be the cause that the winds do not all of them retain the nature of the air? For we know by experience, that there are as many divers qualities in the winds, as in all the elements: for some are hot and dry; others hot and moist; others moist and cold; and some cold and dry. Hereupon than we are to note, that all creatures which subsist of a sensible and corporal nature are commonly divided into two kinds, which comprise them all. The one are simple, and the other compound; of the first sort are the elements taken every one alone in their proper and particular nature, such as we have already declared. And all other creatures compounded of all the elements conjoined together, are of the second kind. Wherefore if the elements were pure, not any way mixed one with another, than would each of them retain their natural qualities purely. But because they are intermingled one with another, they have their qualities likewise mingled. And therefore by how much the higher the air mounteth, by so much the more it is pure, neat, subtle and thin; and by how much the lower it descendeth and approacheth the water and earth, by so much the more it is gross and thick, and partaketh more of the elements near to which it remaineth. And according as it is warmed by the heat of the sun, or by any other heat, or else as it is cooled by the absence and default thereof; even so doth it become either more hot, or more cold. The like also may be said concerning the natural moisture thereof. For according as it is more or less mixed with water, or near unto it; so doth it receive either a more moist, or a more dry quality. So therefore according to the places out of which the winds proceed & issue, and through which they pass, they are hotter or colder; drier or moisture; pure or impure; healthful and wholesome, or pestilent and infectious, yea even stinking. And for the same cause also it cometh to pass, that as the diversity of lands and countries is disposed, so winds, which are felt in one place warm, are in another place cold: and so is it of their moisture and dryness. By the same reason also those that are healthful for some, are unwholesome for others; and those which bring with them fair and clear weather in one place, do in another place bring rain and tempests. For the property of some of them is, according to the countries wherein they blow, to chase away the clouds, and to make the air clear, and the weather fair: whereas others do assemble and heap them together. Whereupon ensueth, that some bring rain with them, others snow, and others again hail and tempests, according as God hath ordained the causes in nature, as the sequel of our discourse shall minister occasion again to speak of. Wherefore pursuing the order of our speech, we will consider those things which are conjoined to the fire and air, and do depend upon their effects: as are thunders and lightnings. Whereof (ARAM) do you discourse.   

Of thunder and lightning. Chapter 43.  ARAM. 
THere is a certain universal love and appetite in all creatures, which inciteth them all to love their own kind, to desire it, and to search after it. But as their natures are divers, even so is the love and the appetite which is in them. And therefore there are as many sorts of desires, as there are diversities of natures. And thence it is that the fire and the air do naturally desire the highest places, and do thither tend evermore, as the water and the earth do require the lowest, and do thereto descend incessantly: neither can these elements find any stay or rest until they be arrived at those places, which are appointed unto them by nature. And therefore what hindrance soever there may be, yet every thing doth always seek to return to his natural home, and therein doth all possible endeavour. Now here we are to consider the cause of thunders, lightnings, tempests, earthquakes, and such like motions and perturbations in the elements. For all these things happen, when the creatures, which by their contraries are hindered from pursuing their own kind, do fight with those which keep them back, as if there were open war betwixt them. Which causeth that that which by force can make way doth at last vanquish. But because of the resistance which there is, this cannot be performed without great violence, and marvelous noise: from whence proceed many admirable effects, and namely thunder, which hath ministered occasion to many great spirits to search out the causes somewhat nearly. But men's opinions, as in a very deep matter are divers hereupon. 
Of the causes of thunder.  For some maintain, that thunder is caused by the blows and strokes that the fire maketh being enclosed within the clouds, which it cleaveth, so making itself to appear as is seen in lightnings. Aristotle in his Meteors writeth, that thunder groweth and proceedeth of hot and dry exhalations ascending out of the earth into the supreme region of the air, being there repulsed back by the beams of the stars into the clouds. For these exhalations desiring to set themselves at liberty, and to free themselves, do cause this noise, which is often stopped by nature, whilst they fight with the clouds: but when they can gain issue, then do they make the cloud to crack, like a bladder full of wind that is broken by force. Moreover Pliny imitating the opinion of the Epicure teacheth, 
Plin. hist. nature. lib. 2.  that those fires, which fall from the stars (as we see often in calm weather) may sometimes meet with the clouds, and fall upon them, and that by the vehemency of this blow the air is moved. And that this fire plunging itself into the clouds causeth a certain thick and hissing smoke, which maketh a noise like an hot iron thrust into water: From whence the whirlwinds which we see in the air do proceed. But when the wind or vapour enclosed in the clouds, will needs get out by force, than this causeth thunder. And if there come out fire which breaketh the cloud, then is it lightning. But when these inflamed vapours do show forth a long train of their fire out of the cloud, than this is that which we call a flash of lightning. Whereupon ensueth that these lightning-flashes cleave the clouds: but the fire of thunder teareth and renteth them, and causeth them to crack.  
But referring these arguments to Philosophers, we may fitly say, that the true cause of thunder is the wind enclosed, which seeketh to issue out. 
Of the difference of heat.  But that which is most admirable therein, is the great violence of the flashes thereof, & the strange accidents which happen by the fire thereof. For it doth not only pierce more than any other fire, by reason of the passing swift motion thereof: but it is much hotter than all other fire. For it is to be noted that there is a difference in heat; and that not only by reason of the matter one fire is hotter than another, as that which is in the iron is hotter than that which is in straw; and that which is in oaken wood is hotter than that which is in willow: but even as in ice we find some scarcely frozen, othersome hard; and other again very hard: so is there in fire that is scarce fire, as when the iron beginneth to wax somewhat red, and another fire that is shining, and other that shines very bright. Wherefore we must note that fire exceeds in heat and in force six manner of ways. 1. By nature as I have said (for the most ardent burneth quickest and soonest.) 2. By the solidity of the matter (as that which is in iron:) 3. By motion, (for thereby it is made more piercing.) 4. By greatness either proper to itself, or caused by continuance of time, (which is common to every fire.) 5. By hindrance of respiration, and by constraint together, (as is manifest in lime, which is kindled with water; for the heat being gotten in, and hid in the furnace, being of the kind of fire, is enclosed and gathered within the lime, so that it returneth into fire, by the motion and mixture of the water.) Now the constrained motion must not only penetrate very much, but also it enkindleth heat, and (as I have declared) it maketh one fire hotter than another. And therefore it may be no great wonder, 
Of the violence and force of thunder.  if the lightning of thunder be of very much force and violence, and that the fire thereof being very different from the nature of other fires, doth effect strange things. For it is not only more piercing by reason of the quick motion thereof, but it is also much hotter than all other fire. Whereupon it cometh, that it can kill any kind of creature by the only touch thereof. And sometimes the purse remaining whole and sound, it melteth the money that is therein: which is not fabulous as many think, nor yet on the other side very much to be admired. For that which hurteth, doth corrupt either by means of the quantity, or for the long continuance thereof. And therefore the thunder-fire which is most subtle, breaketh not the purse: for by reason that it hath very quick motion, it stayeth not on it, and therefore cannot it endommage it so. Moreover, as the air doth demonstrate unto us, that by reason of the subtility thereof, it passeth through the purse, without any resting upon it, and entereth thereinto, filling it when it is empty, though it be fast shut (which could not be, if it found not passage through insensible ways and holes, sith the mouth of the purse is very close shut:) So likewise one little spark of thunder-fire, far more subtle than the air, may easily enter into the purse, where finding metal, it fasteneth thereon, and stayeth therein, causing it to melt by the extreme violence and sudden force thereof.  
So then the solid bodies, as iron, silver, and gold are by so much the sooner spoiled and melted by the lightning, by how much they do more withstand, and make resistance against it. But in those bodies which be rare, full of holes, soft and weak, the thunder passeth quick over them, without hurting them, as is seen in the garments that men wear, and in very dry wood. For other wood burneth, by reason that the moisture which remaineth therein doth resist and kindle. Whereupon it followeth (if we believe Plutarch) that such as sleep are never strooken with thunder: because that the sleeping man is lose, and becometh soft and unequal, and in manner dissolved, with his pores open, as if his spirit failed, and left him: so that the lightning findeth no such resistance in him, as it would do if he were awake. Whereunto this may be also added; that he which sleepeth, having no fear, astonishment, nor dread in him, is by this means oftentimes defended from thunder. For it is certain, that many have died with fear only and apprehension which they have taken thereof, without suffering any violence. Wherefore considering that the sense of hearing is of all other senses the most subject to suffer violent passions; and that fears and dread which proceed of noise, do bring the greatest trouble to the soul: thereupon he which waketh and apprehendeth very much, becometh bound and thick in his body: so that the lightning falling upon him, giveth a greater blow and a ruder stroke, in so much as it findeth greater resistance.  

marvelous effects of thunder.  It is wonderful to consider the strange cases, that many author's report to have happened through thunder. But amongst all, that is very admirable, which julius obsequius reciteth of the daughter of Pompeius Lionis a knight of Rome. For she returning from certain plays and turnayments celebrated at Rome, was suddenly strooken from her palfrey with a thunderclap, stark-dead, without appearance of any wound, or fracture of member. But when her father caused her to be stripped to bury and inter her, they perceived her tongue to come forth at the bottom of her womb: whereby they knew that the thunder and fire had strooken her directly through the mouth, and so had issued out at the lower passage: a thing exceeding fearful, and worthy of great marvel. That which Du Bartas, the honour of the Poets of our age, hath written in his no less learned than Christian week, to have been seen of the effects of thunder by a woman, though it may rather minister cause of laughter then of sorrow, yet is it very marvelous. For he recounteth that the flame singed away all the hair about this woman's secrets at one instant, without doing her any harm. But omitting these discourses, I will note certain particularities, which some philosophers affirm touching thunder. They say then, 
Colomn●● and the keels of ships exempt from the danger of thunder.  that it never or very seldom toucheth pillars, nor the keels of ships, by reason of the depth of the one, and roundness of the other. So that the blow thereof running along the pillars doth very seldom strike them: as also not being able to descend above five cubits under ground, and the bottoms of ships being very low, it scarcely ever falleth there. And therefore it is a sure remedy against lightning to hide one's self in deep caves. It is also to be noted, that although the brightness of the lightning be seen before the noise of thunder be heard, yet proceed they not one before another, but are both together. And the reason hereof is easy to understand. 
Why the lightning of thunder is perceived before the sound be heard.  For because that sight is quicker and sharper than hearing, the eye doth sooner behold the brightness of the lightning, than the ear doth hear the sound of the thunder; as we see plainly when a man cuts down a tree, or beateth upon any thing that resoundeth, especially if we be far off. For we shall see him strike the stroke sooner than we can hear it: as likewise we prove in ordinance, and in all guns and pieces, whose fire we shall see, before we hear the noise of their shoot, notwithstanding that they are both performed together. But we have dwelled long enough on this matter, concerning that which philosophers do teach. We must now consider what the true meteors of Christians are, as we have already discoursed of their Astronomy and Astrology: wherein we shall learn the supernatural causes of those thunders and lightnings, which God sendeth when and how he pleaseth: as you (ACHITOB) can relate unto us.   

Of the true Meteors of Christians: and of the supernatural causes of thunder and lightning. Chap. 44.  ACHITOB. 
THE Philosophers call Meteors, by a Greek name, that part of natural philosophy, which entreateth of the air, and of the things engendered therein, and appertaining thereto: as namely the clouds, rain, snow, thunders, tempests, lightnings, and such like, because that they are over and above us. For the signification of the Greek word (Meteoron) importeth so much. But the principal profit that like Christians, we must desire & purchase from this part of Philosophy, is, that we learn by the contemplation and consideration of the works of God, of which we now entreat, what is his power, wisdom, bounty, and benignity towards us, and how it manifesteth itself before our eyes; not only in the highest heavens, wherein the sun, moon, and stars are contained (as we have heretofore showed) but also in the air and in all the elements placed under the spheres. For by this knowledge we may reap very great fruits. 
Of the profit which the knowledge of the meteors bringeth to Christians.  First, in that we are assured, that all these things are in the power of our father, who is the creator of them: & that they are all created for our good like the rest of his works, and not for our ruin and perdition. Then we learn by so many rare works and marvelous effects, to fear and love the author of them only, and nothing else, except in him, and for the love of him; acknowledging and firmly believing that he alone is the author and governor of all nature. For we behold how terrible and fearful he showeth himself by thunders and lightnings. And again, how loving, gracious, and benign he declareth himself to be, by rain, dews, and such like blessings, by which he giveth nourishment to men, and to all other creatures. For these causes also the kingly prophet calleth thunders, 
Psal. 29. Psal. 18.  lightnings, tempests, & great inundations of waters (the voice of the Lord) and in another place he speaketh of the Lord as of a magnificent and majestical prince, speaking great, like the sound of thunder, and casting fire out at his mouth, with great floods and deluges of water: saying again in another place. That the almighty maketh great clouds his chariot, and that he walketh upon the wings of the wind, 
Psal. 104.  that he maketh the spirits his messengers, and a flaming fire his ministers. By which fire, no doubt, 
Luke. 17.  but the prophet meaneth the lightning, which the Lord sendeth, when, and where it pleaseth him, to cause men to leave him, 
2. Pet. 3.  and to punish them like their just judge: as he declared in effect, when he reigned down fire and brimstone upon them of Sodom and Gomorrha, and the other cities round about them: which are proposed to us in the Scriptures for examples of the judgements of God, as that of the flood.  
For this cause also David addressing his speech to the great and mighty, to the proud and lofty, which have God in contempt, saith [Give unto the Lord ye sons of the mighty, 
Psal. 29.  give unto the Lord glory and strength: give unto the Lord glory due unto his name: worship the Lord in his glorious sanctuary:] consequently deducing the wonders that God doth by the voice of his thunder, & how that it sparkleth with flames of fire, by reason of the lightnings, which proceed out of the clouds when they open, and rend themselves with so great noise, whereat the deserts, and mountains tremble: the hinds calf and bring forth before their time for fear and dread, and the forests are discovered, their trees being overturned and broken, as they are very oftentimes with tempests, and whirlwinds, as if the Author of all nature did blow through them. For it is he (as is written in Ecclesiasticus) that sendeth out the lightnings as he listeth, 
Eccles. 43.  who having opened his treasures, the clouds fly out like birds; at sight of whom the mountains leap, and the southwind bloweth according to his will: and the voice of his thunder maketh the earth to suffer: which is as much to say, as that it is moved and trembleth in regard of men. Whereby we may learn what shall become of them all, if they enterprise to stand up against God. For surely their force cannot but be much less than that of the high mountains and great trees, which might seem to the ignorant able to oppose themselves against thunders, whirlwinds and tempests.  
For this cause also Elihu saith in the book of job. 
job. ●7.  [At this also mine heart is astonished, and is moved out of his place. Hear the sound of his voice, and the noise that goeth out of his mouth. He directeth it under the whole heaven, and his light unto the ends of the world.] Now he meaneth by this light, the lightnings which our God causeth to appear in one moment and instant from the east to the west, & from the one side of the world to the other (as the Scripture declareth otherwhere) and it is easy to note, by reason that he proceedeth, saying: 
Matth. 24.  [After it a noise soundeth: he thundereth with the voice of his majesty, and he will not stay them, when his voice is heard. 
Me●●●les to be considered in the fire of thunder.  God thundereth marvelously with his voice: he worketh great things, which we know not.] And who (I pray you) would not wonder to see the fire and water, which are of contrary natures mingled one with another, and lodged both in one lodging, and proceeding out of one place together? For where remaineth this fire, which showeth itself in lightning? cometh it not out of the clouds, wherein it is enclosed before they be opened, and burst by the thunder? And of what substance is the cloud? Is it not of water massed up together, which covereth and keepeth in the fire, as in an hearth? For do not we oftentimes behold while it raineth, and great floods and streams of water do fall, so that it seemeth that all the clouds, and the whole air should melt and resolve into water, that great lightnings of fire flash, appear, and run every where about like burning darts and arrows? For while the hot exhalations are enclosed in the cloud, 
Causes of the noise and of the lightning of thunder.  and retained therein peforce, with the violence and contention which is betwixt these contraries, the noise of thunder is made. And when the matter is so abundant in the cloud, that it maketh it to break and open, and that it may reach to the earth; then is there not only thunder and great lightning, but also thunderbolts, and which are of divers very marvelous and fearful kinds. For some bring with them that fire which is not easy to be quenched as we have already declared: others are without fire, and pierce through the most  and firm bodies, so that there is no force which can resist them. And sometimes also it happeneth, that those which are strooken therewith, be they men or beasts, remain all consumed within, as if their flesh, sinews, and bones were altogether melted within their skin, it remaining sound & whole, as if they had no harm, so that it is very hard to find in what part the body was stricken.  
We are not then to hold in small account that the holy scripture proposeth God unto us so often thundering, and lightning, when it would declare unto us his majesty and how terrible he is, and to be feared. For it is certain, that he hath many weapons, and of divers sorts, very strong, and inevitable, when he will punish men, and that his only will is sufficient to serve him, when, and how he pleaseth. 
Supernatural causes to be considered in thunder.  And therefore also we must acknowledge beside these natural causes, which make and engender thunder, the prime, eternal, and supernatural cause of all things, from which proceed so many signs of the marvelous judgements of God through the ministery of his creatures, oftentimes contrary to that, which seemeth to be ordained by the laws of nature. For when he will thunder upon his enemies, he breaketh and suddenly consumeth them in strange manner. And therefore it is written, 
1. Sam. 2. & 7  that the Lord shall destroy those who rise up against him, and that he shall thunder upon them from heaven. And in the battle which the children of Israel had against the Philistims it is said, that after the prayer of Samuel the Lord in that day thundered a great thunder upon his enemies, and scattered them, and slew them before the host of Israel. When Moses also stretched out his rod towards heaven, it is said, 
Exod. 9  that the Lord caused thunder, and hail, and that the fire walked upon the ground: and that hail and tempests struck many men and beasts in Egypt.  
Moreover we doubt not but that evil spirits do sometimes raise up tempests, thunder and lightning, because that the principal power of them is in the air. And therefore when it pleaseth God to slack their bridle, they raise up terrible and wondrous storms. Which is apparently demonstrated unto us in job, 
job. 1.  whose servants and cattle Satan burned with the fire, which he caused to fall from heaven: and by a great wind that he raised, he overturned the house upon his children. And therefore also the scripture calleth the devil, Prince of this world, 
Ephes. 2. &. 6.  and of darkness, and of the power of the air: teaching us also, that we must fight against the evil spirits which are in the celestial places. It is no marvel then, if evil spirits join themselves with tempests, to hurt men to their uttermost ability. For which cause David calleth the inflaming of the wrath of God, choler, 
Psal. ●8.  indignation and anguish (the exploit of evil angels.) Wherefore it is certain that when God hath a meaning, not only to punish the wicked, but also to chastise his own, or to try their faith, constancy, & patience; he giveth power to devils to this effect: yet such, as that he always limiteth them, so that they can do nothing, but so far as is permitted them. Now he permitteth them so far as he knoweth to be expedient for his glory, and for the health of his: or so much as the sins and infidelity of men deserve, that he may chastise and punish them, and bring vengeance upon them for their iniquities. And therefore me seemeth that to such meteors the Epicures and Atheists should be sent, who mock at the providence of God; as likewise the tyrants of this world, 
Against Atheists and Tyrants.  who tread all justice underfoot; to make them think a little, whether there be a God in heaven, and whether he be without power, and without meddling in the government of the world. For I cannot believe that there is any one of them, but would be waked out of his sleep, how profound soever it were, when he should hear God shoot out of the highest heavens, and should understand the noise of his cannons, and should behold the blows that he striketh. For he is in a place so high, that all the wicked together cannot make battery against him, nor yet avoid his inevitable strokes, who can slay them with the fear only which they shall have of his noise, without touching them. But though they cannot assure themselves in their hearts against this sovereign majesty and power of the eternal, yet are they so perverse and wicked; that rather than they will render to him the honour and glory which is due, they forge unto themselves a nature, to which they attribute his works, or else believe that they happen by chance, as things coming by haphazard, without any divine providence. But leaving such manner of people, we will pursue our discourse concerning things engendered in the higher elements, entreating of snows, mists, frosts and hail, the discourse whereof (ASER) I refer to you.   

Of snows, mists, frosts, ice, and hail. Chap. 45.  ASER. 
Sigh that God is not subject to the nature which he hath created, but doth ever rest the Lord and master thereof, who can perform both without it, and with it all that he pleaseth: it therefore followeth, that we must refer, not to the creatures or to nature, the works, which he hath done in them, & by them, but to him alone, & must attribute to him the total glory thereof, & to depend wholly upon him, and upon his providence. Now if we shall consider all creatures in their original and end ordained by God, we shall find that they are all good, and ordained by the creator for the benefit of the good. And yet it might seem that he hath established some things, principally to take vengeance on the wicked, as by this text of scripture, 
job. 32.  where the Lord saith to job; [Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail, which I have hid against the time of trouble, against the day of war and battle?] In which text is delivered unto us a goodly doctrine of the form, and of the place, where the snow and hail are engendered, to wit, in the chambers builded by God among the waters, which he guardeth as treasures, and congealeth them to serve him for scourges, to chastise and punish the froward. 
Psal. 147.  For it is he (as the Psalmist chaunteth) who giveth snow like wool, and scattereth the hoar frost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can abide the cold thereof? He sendeth his word and melteth them: he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow. This is he also (as saith Ecclesiasticus) which hasteneth the snow by his commandment, 
Eccles. 43.  and strengtheneth the clouds with great force to make the hailstones crack. The south wind bloweth according to his will: the storm of the north, and the whirlwind flying out like birds, scatter the snow, and the falling down thereof is as an heap of grasshoppers or locusts that light down in any country. The eye hath the whiteness thereof in admiration, and the heart is astonished at the fall of it. The Lord poureth out the frost upon the earth like salt, which when it is frozen sticketh on the tops of pales. The cold north wind bloweth, and the water is frozen: it abideth upon the gatherings together of the water, and clotheth the water as with a breastplate. It devoureth the mountains, and burneth the wilderness, and destroyeth that that is green, like fire. The present remedy against all this, is a cloud, and the dew coming before the heat, appeaseth it. It is also written in the book of job, [The whirlwind cometh out of the heap of clouds, and the cold from the north-wind, 
job. 37.  at the breath of God the frost is given, and the breadth of the waters is made narrow.] And therefore the Lord saith to job, [Out of whose womb came the ice? who hath engendered the frost of the heaven? The waters are hid as with a stone: and the face of the deep is covered. 
job. 38. ] Which is as much to say, as the waters take to them the form of a stone, when they are converted into hail and ice, and that the sea is frozen over: for when the water is frozen, it seemeth to be hid and lost, and to be no more water.  
Surely in these discourses we have much to consider concerning the wonders of God. For is it not an admirable thing, that the water, which is so soft, and runs so swiftly, should become as hard as stones, and that it can fall from heaven in such form, yea sometimes so great that it doth not only spoil the fruits of the earth, but doth also break the branches of trees, and kill men and beasts. Hereof that is a certain testimony which we read concerning the hail, which God sent upon the Egyptians, 
Exod. 9  by the ministery of Moses, 
Josh. 10.  and upon the Amorites in the time of joshuah, in the war of the Gibeonites. Indeed this was done contrary to the common course of nature, in respect of the Egyptians especially. For their land is not moistened, nor watered with rain from heaven, but only by the river Nilus. And therefore the power of God was evidently showed, 
Deut. 11.  when he caused so great hail to fall down upon the enemies of his people, that no man could judge it to be natural. For hail is made of rain frozen in the air: and is different from snow and mists, in that the hail is engendered of rain more hard frozen: snow of moisture more softly thickened: and mists and fogs of cold dews. So that when the congealed water is frozen by a strong cold, it becometh hail: if by a small cold, it engendereth small drizzling hail, such as falls commonly in the spring time, as in March and April. But this me thinketh is worthy of greatest wonder, that the water in summer time should be congealed into hail, and that during the great heat of the sun, the greatest congelation should be made, from whence cometh this word amongst the Latins (Grando) which is as much to say, as a great drop of water: which is not seen in winter, when every thing, through the exceeding cold, freezeth here on earth: or if so be this happen in such a time, it is spoken of as a new and strange thing that comes not ordinarily in this season, like the snow and mists, which are proper to winter and cold weather. For though the Naturalists travel much to show that all things are produced by inferior and natural causes; yet must we principally acknowledge a divine puissance above all, who hath causes hidden in his incomprehensible treasures from men, by which the hail, thunder, lightning, tempests and storms are disposed and dispersed according to his good pleasure. 
Exod. 16.  For as God made known to his people, by the Manna which he sent them in the wilderness, wherewith he nourished them for the space of forty years in a barren and unhabitable place, that he could evermore very easily find means enough, both ordinary and extraordinary, to nourish and maintain them: so hath he made manifest by the rods and scourges wherewith he hath beaten the Egyptians, that he can evermore very easily invent means enough to punish his enemies, so often and whensoever he pleaseth, yea even then, when there shall be no appearance thereof amongst men.  
Now as God, when he pleaseth, converteth the water into stones, 
Of the frozen water and how it is thawed.  and so hardeneth it that by great cold he doth (as it were) pave, not only rivers, ponds, and lakes, but also great seas; which he maketh so firm, that one may pass over them, yea and draw over great and heavy chariots, as it were over bridges, and firm land: so when it pleaseth him, he causeth all this water so hardened to return into the proper kind thereof, as if it had never been frozen. And as there be winds to congeal it, so there are winds to dissolve and thaw it. For we must note, that ye doth not dissolve and thaw by the heat of the sun only, but also by the power of the winds ordained hereto, yea and much sooner so, then otherwise. Concerning all which things, and the causes of them, which God hath created and established in nature, we shall here make a brief and general discourse. For if we should speak as the Philosophers have written and disputed, we should have matter enough to compose a great volume. But we will content ourselves simply to propound here the admirable works of God, by which every one may learn to fear, and honour him: which is the only, 
Of the true profit that must be reaped concerning meteors.  and the greatest profit that we must make of meteors, whereof our speech hath hitherto been, and which do yet rest for us to consider of. For our intent is to manifest in them, not only the works of the creation, which are therein proposed, but those also of the divine providence, which are in the same after divers sorts declared: and not to do as many, who are esteemed very learned in natural Philosophy, and in all other letters and human sciences; who are so badly advanced in the knowledge of God by them, that in stead of acknowledging and glorifying him as it behoveth them, they rather become Atheists and Epicures, contemners and mockers of his Majesty, and of all religion. But the judgements of God shall therefore light very grievous upon them, because they shall be by so much the more inexcusable. For they are of the number of those of whom Saint Paul saith, that by their infidelity, & injustice, 
Rom. 1.  they detain the truth in injustice, because they unjustly and wilfully suppress the knowledge of the Eternal: for having known him in the works of the creation of the world, 
Heb. 11.  which are as a mirror and show of invisible things, they glorify him not as God, neither are thankful: but become vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart is full of darkness, and when they profess themselves wise, they become fools; because it hath pleased God so to punish their proud presumption, and the vanity of their understanding. Wherefore likewise as the Apostle saith in another place: 
Ephes. 4.  They have their cogitations darkened, and are strangers from the life of God, through the ignorance that is in them, because of the hardness of their hearts. For by reason that they abuse the gift of knowledge, which they have in a more ample measure than others, therefore doth the Omnipotent by his just judgement make them more blind than the simple and ignorant; so that they are rather worthy to be accounted as beasts then as men. And yet the science and knowledge which they have of the works of God more abundant than others, is not cause of their blindness, considering that it is an excellent gift from above, profitable for all those, which can and will well use it: but their malice, ingratitude, and perverseness of heart and understanding pulleth this evil upon them, through their own fault, and by the just vengeance of God. So that whereas their skill should open their eyes to guide them by the knowledge of the creatures, to that of the creator, it is rather an hindrance unto them, and depriveth them of that great and sovereign good. But we shall have worthy arguments against their impiety in that which remaineth for us to view, concerning other things engendered in the highest elements; amongst which many comprehend comets, saying that they are of the number of sublime or high impressions, which are made in the region of the fire and air. Wherefore pursuing our purpose we will hear you (AMANA) discourse upon this subject.   

Of comets. Chap. 46.  AMANA. 
ALthough we have hitherto spoken of sundry sorts of the creatures and works of God, by which he manifesteth and declareth his power, glory, majesty, and eternal providence, and chief in the region of the air, nevertheless there do yet a great number remain, which we have nothing at all touched either particularly or in general, no not so much as cursorily. For there are so many sorts of fires of divers forms that appear in the sky above, that it is impossible to distinguish them all particularly. And amongst them there are some which sometimes seem to fall from heaven, or as if the stars did snuff themselves, as men snuff a candle: so that the most part of the rude and ignorant people suppose it is so. Many others think that sometimes the stars sparkle. 
Why it seeme●● that the star● do sparkle.  But the cause of such appearance is, for that the substance of heaven being very clear, their beams shining towards us, are evermore broken perpendicularly. For the air being moved, even as we see the stones in the bottom of a river seem to tremble, because of the running motion of the water; so do the stars seem to sparkle: and when the middle of the air is vehemently stirred above, than they seem to sparkle both more and oftener. But we will leave this talk to speak of certain heavenly fires, which we call comets, and which are worthy of great consideration, and of much marvel. 
Of comets and of the place where they are engendered.  For they appear like bearded and hairy stars, having their motion with the heaven as if they were very stars: and certes we might well suppose them such, and placed in heaven like the rest, if they should long time continue. But the opinion of many is, (as Aristotle likewise writeth in his Meteors) that they are naturally made of an hot exhalation, which attaineth to the supreme region of the air, where it is inflamed by the element of fire: so that of such an exhalation are fires kindled in heaven of divers sorts and fashions. Nevertheless some learned modern writers which have diligently observed the height, whither these vapours may mount, do think clean otherwise: for they affirm that comets cannot be engendered in the region of the elements: and are not afraid to give sentence against Aristotle, who in truth being an Ethnic and Pagan, hath failed in the resolution of many particular questions. For he hath strained himself to affirm many general propositions, which our experience showeth to be utterly false: as these. 
Some propositions of Aristotle false.  [That no living thing apprehendeth by sense that which is good; that a thing poized can incline neither to the one side nor to the other; and that the earth is in no part higher than the waters; and sundry others.] Now if it hath been permitted him to abandon the opinion of his master Plato who taught the truth, yea and to reprehend him: it shall be also lawful for us, and very laudable to separate ourselves in opinion from him, and to contradict his writings for the truth.  
They then that do not acknowledge comets to be conjoined unto, and depending upon the effects of the elementary fire, and air, by means of exhalations and vapours arising from the earth, do allege among other reasons, that the place which is seen by the inhabitants of Milan under the circle of winter or the Tropic of Capricorn, is distant from the earth ten times more than the height that the vapours attain to. 
Reasons of those who say that the comet● are situate in heaven.  And therefore the comets being seen there higher than the place of the vapours, it necessarily followeth, that they are not there engendered, neither yet in the highest of the pure air called (Aether) considering that there is no matter, which may be kindled. But if any one allege that the combustible humour is ravished and attracted thither by the power of the stars, though that this place be higher than the common place of vapours; we may answer, that forsomuch as we behold many comets to continue more than two months, and some three, that this their long continuance may be an impediment thereto: because that the total mass of the earth would not be sufficient for such an inflammation. For fire is not perpetually fed with one only matter, but requireth a new supply. And seeing that these comets have for the most part a beard or a tail, and are seated in an higher place than the air; a man cannot judge them to be less than the Moon. And it seemeth impossible that so much matter should be consumed as might maintain this huge flame for three months. Moreover, there is a means to know, whether the comet be in the region of the air, or else be engendered in heaven. For if it be quicker in motion from west to east, them the moon is; them of necessity must the place of the comet be under the lowest sphere: but if it be more slow, 
Comets moved with three motions.  then without doubt it is bred in heaven. Now it is common to all comets to be moved with three motions: namely, with the first from east to west in the space of four & twenty hours, like all the stars: with the second from west to east, almost in like space of time with the planet Venus. For a comet which appeared the two and twentieth day of September 1532. and ended the third day of December, proceeded (as Fracastorius writeth) in 71. days from the fift part of Virgo, to the eight part of Scorpio. Which maketh manifest that it could not be under the Moon: for than it should have been more swiftly moved then this planet: which retrogradeth thirteenth parts of the Zodiac in four and twenty hours, according to the ordinary course of the first motion: and the comet had proceeded but 63. degrees in 71. days. But for the third motion peculiar to all comets, which is considered according to the latitude, it is such and so great, that if the foresaid Author be not deceived, one is now moved with incredible speed towards the North, and another in an instant towards the South. Which cometh to pass when the comets are near to any of the Poles, for then a little variety of place conferred to the Zodiac doth greatly change the latitude. Besides, it is to be noted, that the beard of every comet doth directly stretch out that way, which is opposite to the Sun: and when it setteth, the same tail is strait Eastward: As the like may be daily seen in the dark part of the Moon. Moreover, the comet doth most usually accompany the Sun, and appeareth not but at eventide, & at the shutting up of the day. Which giveth us to understand, 
What a comet properly●●  that a comet is a globe placed in heaven, which being enlightened by the Sun doth plainly appear: and when his rays pass farther, they show like the fashion of a bread, or of a tail. Whereupon it appeareth, that this flaming globe may be made in the midst of the spheres, if the generation thereof be in them: or else we must say (and that seemeth true) that the heaven is full of many stars, not very massy, which (the air being dry and attenuated) do present themselves to our sight. For Venus herself is sometimes seen in broad day, which none can say to be newly engendered. 
Of the prodigies which are attributed to comets.  Then through this dryness of the air it commonly happeneth, that the seas are much turmoiled with tempests, and that great blustering winds do follow thereupon, and that monarchs & great Princes, who are most dry through cold & watchings, or else through abundance of hot and delicate meats and of strong wine, do thereupon die: So likewise the dry and attenuated air causeth the waters to diminish, fishes to die, and scarcity of victuals, which oftentimes stirreth up seditions, and the change of laws, and finally the subversion of states. All which things (I say) do seem in some sort to proceed through the great tenuity and dryness of the air: & thereof the comet then appearing may be a sign & token, but not the cause. But if we will meditate upon these things like christians, we will say, that what natural causes soever Naturalists and Astrologers can render concerning comets, signs and wonders which appear sometimes in heaven, that they should be so often unto us, like so many trumpets, heralds, and forerunners of the justice of God, to advertise men that they remain not buried in their filth and sins, but return to the infinite goodness of God, who reacheth out his hand, and calleth to us through such signs to change our life and leave our execrable vices, to the end that through his mercy, we may obtain pardon for our faults.  

Of divers kinds of comets.  But let us likewise note, that although sundry sorts of comets are seen, yet the Greeks' call them properly stars that have a sanguine bush of hair, and are bristled at the top. And those, which have under them a long beard made like hairs, they call (Pogonies.) Pliny reporteth of sundry other sorts: and saith, that the shortest time that ever comet was seen to appear, hath been seven days, 
Hist. nat. lib. 2.  and the longest time eighty. He maketh mention also of one, which seemed terrible about the clime of Egypt and Ethiopia. For it was flaming and wreathed round like a serpent, having a very hideous and dreadful aspect: so that one would have said, that it had rather been a knot of fire, than a star. Afterward this author concludeth his speech, with the opinion that many have (as is abovesaid) that comets are perpetual, and that they have a proper and peculiar motion: saying also, that none can see them, except they be very far distant from the sun, in such sort that they may not be covered with his beams. And yet the opinion of Aristotle is clean contrary thereto, and so are a great number of other philosophers, who affirm that comets are composed of a certain fire, and of an humour which it lighteth on by chance, for which cause, they are subject to resolution. But we will proceed no farther in this argument, nor yet concerning the situation of them, whether they be under the spheres, or amongst them: but will pursue our purpose concerning things undoubtedly engendered in the highest elements, as namely the clouds. The discourse whereof (ARAM) I refer to you.   

Of clouds and vapours. Chap. 47.  ARAM. 
AS the Lord and father of this great vniuers doth publish his glory by the motions of the heavens, & the marvelous courses of all the lights in them; so doth he likewise in the air after many sorts, as we have already heard, & as we have yet good proofs in that which is presented unto us for the matter of our discourse. And therefore the kingly prophet saith, 
Psal. 19  that the heavens report the glory of God, and the firmament doth declare his works. For the Hebrew word, which we call firmament, doth properly signify (a spreading abroad) and comprehendeth both the heaven and the air. Now let us first note, that there is nothing more weak than the air, nor any element that can worse sustain a charge, if it have no other prop. Then let us consider of what matter the clouds are made, and what firmness they may retain. 
How clouds are made of vapours.  It is certain that they are nothing else but vapours attracted out of the waters by the power of the sun, as we behold after a great rain, when the heat of the sun striketh upon the earth. For we perceive the water to ascend upwards like a great smoke: and we see an other clear experience hereof in wet clothes and linen, when they receive the heat of heaven, or of the fire. So it is then, that the water ceaseth not to mount from earth up into the air, and then to descend down again; so that the course thereof is perpetual, as if there were a sea mounting from earth to heaven, which we call (Air,) then descending from thence down hither to us. For after that of vapours, which ascend from the earth, the clouds are gathered together, which like sponges do receive the steam of the waters, whereof they themselves are engendered; then do they carry them like chariots, to distribute them through all the quarters of the world, according as is ordained by the providence of God. And therefore Elihu saith in the book of job. [Behold God is excellent, and we know it not, 
job. 36.  neither can the number of his years be searched out, when he restraineth the drops of water, the rain poureth down by the vapour thereof, which rain the clouds do drop and let fall abundantly upon man.] Then proceeding to show, how God spreadeth out the light of the sun upon the waters of the sea, to draw out and produce vapours, he addeth: [Who can know the divisions (that is the varieties and diversities) of the clouds, and the thunders of his tabernacle? Behold he spreadeth his light upon it, and covereth the roots of the sea.] Meaning by roots the waters of the sea, as well because they are deep, as for that they are divided by divers waves like the branches of roots. 
Propertie of the winds in regard of the clouds.  Moreover, we must consider that to carry & convey the clouds hither and thither, God hath created the winds, which blow from all the quarters of the world: some to gather the clouds together, and to bring rain and snow, or hail and tempests, by means of the same clouds, according as pleaseth the Creator to dispose them: other winds on the contrary do disperse them and make the air clear and pleasant, bringing fair weather. Hereof than it cometh, that above in the air, between heaven and earth, there is, as it were an other heaven made of clouds spread out like a curtain, and like a vault or covering over our heads, which hindereth us of sight of the Sun, Moon and stars. But as this mass of clouds is made by means of winds ordained thereto, so when it pleaseth God to give us fair weather, then doth he send us other winds, which chase away all these clouds, and clear the air, as if they had been swept away, and the heaven showeth another countenance to the world, as if it had been changed and renewed.  
Now while the air is so filled with clouds, this may very well be considered by us, that men have then (as it were) a great sea of water over their heads, contained and held within those clouds, as the waters of the sea are within the bounds which are assigned them for their course. Which it seemeth that Moses taught, when he showeth that God creating all things separated the waters, which are upon the earth, from those which are in the air, 
Genes. 1.  saying thus: [That there was a stretching out between the waters, and that it separated the waters from the waters. God then made the firmament (or spreading abroad or stretching out) and separated the waters, which are under the firmament from those which were above it, and it was so. And God called the firmament, Heaven.] It is sure that by these words, many have thought that the prophet would teach, that there were waters, both under & above heaven: which seemeth to be confirmed by the Psalmist, 
Psal. 148. Whether there be any material waters above the heavens.  saying [Praise ye the Lord heavens of heavens, & waters that be above the heavens, praise his name.] Nevertheless it is not very easy for us to understand what waters may be above the heavens, if we do not take the name of heaven in these two texts, for the air, as we have heretofore showed, that it is oftentimes so taken. For what shall we answer being demanded to what use the material waters may serve, either among the spheres, or above the planets and stars? And for to take the name of waters here, for spiritual waters, not corporal, as many have argued: me seemeth, (under correction of the wiser) which we prefer in all our discourses, that this cannot fitly be affirmed, because it doth evidently appear, that Moses speaketh of material waters. For he accommodating himself to a gross people, amongst whom he conversed, maketh no mention in all the creation of the world, but of the creating of visible and corporal things; so that there is small likelihood that he should speak of other waters, mixing spiritual things with corporal. But because the Latin translator of the common version of the bible hath used, in this text, the word firmament, following the translation of the Greeks', and not the proper word (spreading abroad) as the Hebrew phrase doth signify; some of the learned have observed, how that many Latin divines have been hindered from the understanding of this doctrine. For they have taken the name Firmament, for the starry heaven (as also the Greeks' have judged) imitating their translation. Whereupon the imagination is sprung of waters above the heavens, and of a crystalline heaven: which I suppose to have been so called, 
Of the crystalline heaven.  by reason of these waters, which were supposed to be above the firmament: because that crystal is made of ice, and ice of water. For it had been very difficult to conceive how material waters, which by nature are corruptible, might be above the celestial spheres, except they were hardened and converted into crystal, because that from the moon upwards, there are no creatures subject to corruption and to such changes, as those that are under the moon. Behold then, why these men have supposed such waters to have been made partakers of the nature of heaven. But what need is there to travel in such disputations, and to take pains for to have recourse to allegories, when one may be easily satisfied with the literal sense? For there is nothing more easy, then to make the words of Moses clear and evident, being thoroughly considered. For first he hath declared, 
Of the separation of the terrestrial and celestial waters.  how that the earth was covered all over with water, and that there was a great deep overwhelmed with darkness, so that the earth did in no wise appear, till such time as God had commanded the waters to retire themselves into their places, which he hath assigned for their perpetual residence. And then the earth was discovered, even so much thereof as was needful for the habitation and nourishment of men, and of all the creatures, which God did afterwards create. 
Psal. 104.  Therefore David (as the expounder of Moses words, saith) That the Lord hath set the earth upon her foundations: adding strait after, That he had covered it with the deep, as with a garment, and that the waters did stand above the mountains; but at his rebuke they fled: which is as much to say, as when God had commanded the waters to retire and to discover the earth, they suddenly obeyed the voice of their creator. Now Moses having spoken of those waters which are resident here below on earth, gathered as well into the sea, as into fountains and rivers, he afterwards declareth, how God would assign unto them another abode in a certain region of the air, which he first calleth a spreading abroad, and after that heaven, which the Psalmist also signifieth when he saith of God, that he covereth himself with light as with a garment, and spreadeth the heavens like a curtain, which is to say, that the light is to the creator like a stately garment, wherein we behold his glory to shine and glister every where, and that he hath spread abroad the heavens like a pavilion for his habitation. Moreover he addeth, [The Lord doth lay the iousts of his high chambers amongst the waters: he maketh the great clouds his chariot: He holdeth back (saith job) the face of his throne and stretcheth out his cloud upon it. 
job. 26. ] And therefore the Scripture doth also teach us, that God hath oftentimes declared his presence, 
Exod. 13.14.16 &. 40. Acts. 1.  & manifested his glory both to Moses, & to all the people of Israel by the clouds. And when jesus Christ ascended into heaven, a cloud taking him, bore him up in the sight of his apostles: to declare unto them, and make them sure of the place whither he went: using this cloud as a triumphant chariot, which hath given testimony of his sovereign and eternal majesty. And therefore it is also written, that he shall come in the clouds of heaven with power and glory. Wherefore if we were well instructed in the sacred word of God, we should have a very clear doctrine concerning Meteors, and which were much more profitable than that which Philosophers teach. For the clouds would excellently declare unto us the magnificence and majesty of God, so often as we should behold them, 
Matth. 24.  and would represent unto us all the wonders by us here mentioned: as we shall also be induced to admire them, considering more nearly the great miracle of the waters sustained and hanged in the air, as pursuing our purpose I leave to you (ACHITOB) to discover.   

Of the waters sustained and hanged in the air, and of the rainbow. Chap. 48.  ACHITOB. 
I Will begin my speech with the saying of the kingly prophet, 
Psal. 104.  who after that he had appointed the heavens for the pavilion of God, & ordained the clouds for the planchers thereof, whereupon are raised the lofty chambers (that is to say, the great & spacious waters amassed up within the clouds, which he also proposeth unto us as the chariot, upon which the Eternal is borne) being consequently willing to show what the horses are, by which this chariot is drawn and driven, he saith [He walketh upon the wings of the wind. He maketh the spirits his messengers, and flaming fire his ministers:] which is as much, as if in sum he would declare, that men need not labour to mount aloft into heaven there to contemplate and behold God, sith that he so clearly manifesteth himself throughout the whole world, principally by the celestial creatures, and then by the magnificent and marvelous works, which he daily performeth here in the air near unto us, and before our eyes. So surely, if we must account as great miracles, the coming of the Sun unto us and his return, which daily continueth, and the courses and motions of all the other celestial bodies; we have no less occasion to account as a thing miraculous and worthy of great wonder, that we so often behold here below, 
Wonder of the waters carried in the air.  a great cel of waters over our heads in the air, sustained by the water itself, & by vapours like to smoke, as if they were hanged in the air, and were there borne up without any stay and prop, but by the invisible virtue and power of God. For otherwise, how could the clouds sustain so great heaps, and such deep gulfs of water, considering that they are nothing else but water, and do also come at length to resolve into water? Again how without this divine power could these clouds be supported in the air, seeing that the air itself seemeth to consist of waters most subtly distilled, being very light, and in continual motion. For it evidently appeareth, that the air retaineth much of the nature of water, because that so ordinarily it converteth thereinto, being enclosed in a cold and moist place: so that many fountains are by this means engendered of air, if we will credit Naturalists. And therefore as David saith of the waters, which run about the earth, that God hath appointed a bound unto them, which they may not pass, nor return any more to overflow the habitation of men: so may we likewise say, that he hath bounded the waters that hang in the air, within the clouds, to the end that they may not run loosely astray. 
job. 26.  And therefore job saith: [He bindeth the waters in the clouds, and the cloud is not broken under them.] For else it is most certain that so often as these waters should fall upon the earth, they would drown up all things whereupon they powered, like as when the sea and rivers overflow the banks, or like a great deluge; as came to pass, when God punished the world by waters, 
Genes. 7.  in the time of Noah. For it is written, that not only all the fountains of the great deep were broken up, but that the windows of heaven were opened, and that rain fell upon the earth forty days and forty nights. For which cause also the Psalmist singeth [The voice of the Lord is upon the waters, 
Psal. 29.  the glory of God maketh it to thunder; the Lord is upon the great waters. He was set upon the flood, and he shall remain king for ever:] which is as much to say, as the Lord hath executed his judgement upon the wicked, by the waters of the flood, and that as than he took vengeance, so it is he, that doth for ever remain judge of the world, and that maketh all creatures to tremble before him. Where we have great matter of fear and trembling, if we believe the word of God, and the testimonies which it delivereth of his judgements, when I say, we diligently consider the effects of the nature of the higher elements. Therefore whensoever we see close weather, and the air filled with clouds, threatening us with rain and tempests, the sight thereof should always refresh and renew in us the memory of this judgement of God, so terrible and universal in the flood, to teach us to walk in more fear of his Majesty. But there are few, which think thereupon, and can make their profit thereof: and many to the contrary, do but jest and scoff at it, as if it were a fable, and a fantasy.  
I know very well, that the scripture saith that God set the rainbow in the clouds for sign of an accord and atonement between him and men, and every living creature, to the end that the waters might never after increase to such a flood as should root out all flesh. But we must note, that the Eternal doth not here promise, never to send any deluge upon the earth, 
Genes. 9 Many goodly things to be c●●●●dered in the rainbow.  but only not a general and universal flood, as the first was in the time of Noah. For how many times hath he punished particularly many people with great inundations and deluges of water: signifying unto all, that he hath all his creatures at commandment for ever, to make them serve, either to his wrath, or to his mercy, according as he will entreat men? and hereupon we shall learn, that though it seemeth, that in the place before alleged, the rainbow is named, as if it had been spread in the air at that time only, when it was given by God as a sign and sacrament of his covenant renewed: yet nevertheless we must not doubt, but that when God created the causes of this bow in nature ordained by him, he did also create it in the establishing of the world with other creatures. But it was not used by God for a testimony of his atonement with mankind, till after the flood. So likewise it is certain, that this heavenly bow hath naturally had at all times the significations which at this present it retaineth, to presage rain or fair weather, according as it diversly appeareth. But since that the creator hath accepted it for a sign of his covenant, it hath had this vantage, to be ordained as a gage and witness of the promises of God. And therefore whensoever we behold it in heaven, we must not only consider of it, as of a natural thing, and as a prognosticator sometimes of rain, sometimes of fair weather: but likewise as a witness and memorial as well of the judgement of God, as of his grace and mercy, and of the assurance of the conservation of all creatures by his providence. But though it should teach us nothing of all this, but should only retain the beauty and natural signification thereof; yet might it serve us for an excellent testimony of the majesty of God, and incite us to give him praise. 
Eccles. 43.  For which cause Ecclesiasticus saith, [Look upon the rainbow and praise him that made it: very beautiful it is in the brightness thereof. It compasseth the heaven about with a glorious circle, and the hands of the most high have bended it.] For what man is so dull, but doth admire the great variety of so fair colours as appear in it, even in a substance so fine and subtle, that it cannot be perceived by any corporal sense, save by the sight?  
I know that the philosophers do teach, 
Of the cause of th● 〈…〉 rainbow.  that as a drop of water, which one seethe in the sun, representeth many goodly colours like those in the rainbow, which is made of a thick watery cloud full of drops, in the middle region of the air. For every dark obscure thing is, as it were, almost black, as the shadows do demonstrate, which by reason of their obscurity seem to be black. And when an obscure thing is illuminated, if it be bright, it passeth in colours, according to the abundance of the brightness. Now the cloud is obscure, & the drops of water are bright; & for this cause they represent unto us colour's according to the variety of that light which shineth upon them. And forsomuch as the innermost circle of the bow is nearest to the obscure or dark cloud, it seemeth commonly to be blue; that in the middle, which is more illuminate, appeareth green: and the upper circle, which is greatest, and most lighted with celestial brightness, is yellow. Forasmuch then as there is a cause of every thing, the Naturalists do much endeavour themselves to render reasons, concerning the diversities of these colours: as Astrologians do also, to argue upon the divers predictions of this bow, as presaging sometimes rain, sometimes fair weather, sometimes wind, and sometimes calm and clear weather. 
Hist. nat. lib. 2.  Yet Pliny saith, that it is often seen, when it doth not prognosticate any thing, and that no heed is taken of it, for the time to come. But let every one ascertain himself, that it is caused by the beams of the sun, which striking into an hollow cloud, are constrained to reverberate, and return upwards toward the sun. And that the diversity of colours, which are therein represented, is made by the mixture of the clouds, of the air, and of the fire, which are found there together. Moreover, that this bow never is, but when the sun is opposite to that cloud, and that it exceedeth not the form of a semicircle: also that it appeareth not by night, though Aristotle saith that it hath sometimes been then seen. But we will leave the philosophers to dispute upon these things, and to search the depth of their natural causes; and will conclude this speech, and make an end of this day with a point of doctrine, concerning the meteors of Christians: which is, that we must take very good heed, not to be of the number of those, who boasting of the knowledge of human sciences, have despised the spiritual and divine: and of whom Saint Peter hath prophesied saying, 
2. Pet. 3.  That there should come in the last days mockers and contemners of God, walking according to their own lusts, which should say, [Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers died, all things continue alike from the creation.] Which is as much as if they should say, that there is a common and continual course of nature, which hath hitherto continued from the beginning of the world, and shall endure for ever, without end, and without any judgement of God to come. 
Against Atheists.  For thus prate our idolaters of nature, who do altogether deny the providence of God. And therefore the blessed apostle doth also add, that they willingly know not that the heavens were of old, and that earth that was of the water, and the water by the word of God. By which things the world that was, perished, being overflowed with waters. Likewise saint Peter had before concluded; 
2. Pet. ●.  that if God hath not spared the old world, but saved Noah the eight person, a preacher of righteousness, and brought in the flood upon the troop of the ungodly: it cannot be that the wicked, which are borne since into the world, may think that their condemnation sloweth, and that their perdition sleepeth. For a thousand years are but as one day, and one day is as a thousand years before the lord 
Psal. 90.  And the long term that God alloweth to men, to prevent his judgement by repentance and amendment, shall not hinder him to execute his judgement, yea by so much the more rigorously, by how much the more long time, and more vilely they have abused his stay and patience. Let us then imprint this at this present in our memory, concerning our discourse of the waters sustained and hanged in the air, which have served God for so terrible ministers in the execution of his justice, when it pleased him to punish the iniquity of men: and to morrow, pursuing our subject, we will speak again of rains, and heavenly waters, to the end to consider of the admirable providence of God, which shineth in them: even as you (ASER) shall give us to understand.  
The end of the sixth day.    

THE SEVENTH DAYS WORK.  

Of Dews and Raine. Chapter 49.  ASER. 
THe providence of God hath so disposed the nature of the air and of the water, that these elements seem to repair and maintain one another. For there is a place in the air where water is, as it were, converted into the nature thereof: there is another place again, wherein water returneth into his own natural kind, saving that whilst it hangeth and is sustained in the air, it is much more light and subtle then that which runneth in the earth, for it retaineth more of the earth. 
How the water ascendeth up from the earth and changeth nature.  Although then that water is by nature more heavy than the air; yet doth not the heaviness thereof let it from mounting up from the earth, because that by the heat of the sun which attracteth it, and other such like natural causes, by which it may be elevated into the air, this weightiness is taken from it, or at least is so diminished, that it doth then retain more of the nature of air, then of water, and so doth till such time as it hath ascended, and attained to the place which God hath assigned to it in the air. For the heat of the sun doth convert it first into vapours, which are drawn out of the least terrestrial and most subtle parts thereof, which approach nearest to the nature of the air. For which cause these vapours are more easily converted into air, the which resolveth itself again into water, then when such vapours are arrived at the middle region of the air, which is the coldest part thereof, as well by reason that it is farther distant from the sun and from all the other celestial and aetherian fires, than the supreme part thereof is; as likewise because it cannot be heated like the lowest part thereof, by reverberation of the suns heat, which scorcheth the earth. Wherefore Moses declaring unto us, how the Lord made the water mount from the earth, and converted it into vapours, saith: [The Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, 
Genes. 2.  neither was there a man to till the ground, but a mist (or vapour) went up from the earth, and watered all the earth.] For we behold every day, how that after the air hath been refreshed by the coolness of the night, the dew falleth in the morning upon the earth: and if the cold hath been great, it is turned into mist, & white hoarie-frost, from which proceed the frosts that do oftentimes spoil vines and trees, which are most tender in cold weather, when their branches are yet feeble, and they begin to bud.  
And let us note, that there are two sorts of vapours, 
Of two sorts of vapours, which make dew and rain.  which do commonly rise from the terrestrial towards the celestial region: the one is fat and thick, whereof the dew is made; and the other is subtle and thin, which turneth into rain. Cornefields are fattened by the dew, which by reason of the thickness thereof mounteth not very high: and if that any part of it be better concocted (as doth happen ordinarily in hot countries) it resteth condensate through cold upon the plants, and is called Manna. Of this it is that Pliny speaketh, when he saith, 
Hist. nat. lib. 11.  that the great stars being risen in summer, and specially the most excellent, or else when the rainbow is over the earth, and that it rain not, but only make a small dew, which is heated by the sunbeams; that which then falleth is not home, but is an heavenly gift and singular medicine for the eyes, for ulcers, and for those accidents which may happen in the navel and interior parts. Which Manna is plentifully gathered in Targa, a wilderness of Libya, near to the city Agades, especially when the nights are very fair, partly for that they are colder than the day; and partly for that the dews cannot convert themselves into the substance of clouds: because as I said it is condensate by the cold. Whereupon ensueth that when the rain is engendered of vapours, the cold cannot be great: for then such vapours are attracted by the heat, and are presently after thickened by the cold in the region of the air. And therefore there is but little Manna found when the night is cloudy, and less when it is rainy, for than it melteth. Behold then how the fattest part of vapours turneth into dew, & that which mounteth up, is condensate through cold in the subtle air, 
Why it raineth but little in summer▪ and diversly in other seasons.  and is afterwards converted into rain. And because that in summer the heat doth dry up very near so much as it attracteth in vapours, there is therefore very seldom little rain therein: for considering that in our countries the heat is weak, it attracteth by little and little the vapours, which the dryness doth oftentimes consume before they can be converted into rain. Wherefore it cometh to pass, that if it rain in summer, the rain is suddenly engendered: for when the clouds are too slow, they are consumed by the dryness of the sun. And there where the air is very cold, and consequently thick and gross, the vapour, which is thither drawn, being very light, cannot be condensate, because of the thickness of the air and the thinness of the vapour. Which causeth, that in stead of rain, snow is engendered: for snow is a congelation of a vapour not condensate for the subtility of his proper substance, and for because of the thickness of the air. Wherefore when the cold is great in winter, it raineth little. And for the spring time, because that the succeeding day doth consume more vapour, than the precedent day had attracted (for in the spring time the latter days are still hotter, and have shorter nights) for this cause it raineth then less than in autumn, and oftener than in summer or winter. But in Autumn showers of rain are commonly great, and of long continuance: For the sun being as then still powerful upon the earth, many vapours are drawn up. But because the succeeding day hath still a longer night than the precedent, and for that it was also warmer, it is necessary that the vapour should thicken, and afterwards descend. And when the earth is moistened, then that which did descend, is again attracted, lying then upon the superficies of the earth, and being still somewhat deeper than before. Whereof are made not only rains, but also rainy and windy clouds.  

Difference of rain water, and earth water.  Thus have we in sum then the form of dews and rain, and the diversity of their course, and how the earthly and heavenly waters differ from one another, the rain water retaining more of the air, and being much purer and lighter, then that which doth always remain in the earth. For in comparison of terrestrial water, it is like water distilled through a limbeck. And yet how light soever it be, it must nevertheless be heavier than the air, and especially when it is frozen within the clouds, and converted into snow or hail, which is like stones of ice. Wherein it seemeth that this rule of nature and natural philosophy is not generally true, which affirmeth, That every heavy thing doth always draw downwards, considering there are waters hanged in the air, which is much lighter than the waters that it sustaineth. Wherefore we must say, 
Clouds are in the air, as ships are upon the waters.  that clouds are in the air in the region that is assigned unto them, in such sort as ships are in the water. For none doubteth, but that stones, iron, lead, and all other metals, yea infinite other things of less weight, are heavier than the water; yet we nevertheless do behold, that there is no burden so weighty, but the water doth easily support it, by means of a boat, or a wooden ship, or a galley, which shall be even of itself a great and heavy load. And yet the water, which will sustain such a charge, cannot bear up a pin, or a nail, or a small piece of gold, or silver, or a little stone, but all shall sink to the bottom. Now the cause of all these effects is in the participation that the wood hath with the air, which maketh it much lighter than the other bodies, which are more  and massy. For by reason that the wood is more open, and more lose to give way to the air, it receiveth lightness thereof, which causeth it to float upon the water, whereas the other more terrestrial bodies do sink thereinto. So then the air sustaineth by means of the clouds, the waters, which they contain enclosed within them: even as the sea and great rivers sustain gross and heavy burdens by means of ships. For though the clouds do consist of water themselves, and are engendered of it, being drawn into the air, through blowing of the winds, and afterwards massed up in one body (as we have already understood) yet do they subsist of a water less terrestrial, and more airy, than those waters, which flow here below: for which cause they are also more light, and more easily sustained by the air, upon which they float, like ships upon the sea and other waters. And afterwards when the clouds return into their first nature of water, and when they be opened to let fall the waters which they contain, the water which proceedeth from them doth resume also his proper course, according to the natural heaviness thereof, and returneth downwards, descending to the earth. And as ships sink down into the water, when they are overcharged, as likewise the charges and burdens, wherewith they are laden, when they are split or broken by violence of winds, or by some other force which maketh them dash one against another, and against the rocks: so is it with the clouds, and with the things which they bear, and with the winds also wherewith they are driven, or else are enclosed within them, which make a great noise, when they strive to issue out, so that the clouds are rend and crack, as the thunders testify unto us, and the tempests, lightnings, and thunder claps which proceed from them, as also the great deluges of water, which shower down with great violence and fury. But we have stayed long enough in this matter: let us now consider of the marvelous providence of God, which shineth in the dispensation of the rain and heavenly waters. As (AMANA) I leave to you to discourse.   

Of the fertility caused by dews and rain, and of the providence of God therein. Chap. 50.  AMANA. 
IN vain shall we consider in meteors the works of nature, which are therein proposed very great and excellent, as our precedent speech doth manifest; if we do not learn in the same to consider and acknowledge the providence of God governing all things, as it revealeth itself in sundry sorts. For all these goodly visible works must serve us as images of the invisible and spiritual things, so that all the creatures of God may be competent judges to condemn us, if by them we do not learn to acknowledge their and our creator, and to obey and honour him as behoveth us: we need no other judges, I say, to make us unexcusable before the throne of God's justice, 
Rom. 1.  according to the testimony of Saint Paul, sith he hath as it were, made visible to the eye his divinity, his power, his bounty and his wisdom through his works, and that so near unto us, as almost to be touched with our own hands. For (as this holy apostle in another place saith) he is near to every one of us: 
Acts. 17.  so that howsoever we be blind, yet should we at least find him by groping like those that want sight. For he never wanteth very evident witness amongst men, in conferring benefits upon them, & namely in giving them rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, according to the subject we are now to speak of. Let us know then, that it is he who distributeth the rain and heavenly waters by an admirable providence: & who also keepeth them hidden when he pleaseth, in such sort, that there is no cloud seen in the air, and sometimes for so long space, that the earth becometh dry, and as it were burnt up with the beams of the Sun, for want of moisture from heaven, 
1. King. 17. &. 18.  as it was in the days of Elias. And then he executed the sentence wherewith he threatened the transgressors of his law, when he denounced to them by Moses, 
Levit. 26. Deut. 28.  that he would make the heaven as brass, and the earth as iron: that is to say, that there should come no more rain from heaven, than if it were of brass: whereupon doth also follow, that the earth not being moistened with water from heaven, should become barren, bearing no more fruit, then if it were of iron. For as it is written, [The earth, which drinketh in rain that cometh oft upon it, 
Heb. 6.  and bringeth forth herbs meet for them by whom it is dressed, receiveth blessing of God. But that which beareth thorns and briars is reproved, and is near unto cursing, whose end is to be Burned. And therefore likewise the Prophet saith in the Psalms, 
Psal. 107.  that God turneth the floods into deserts, and springs of water into dryness, and the fruitful ground into saltness: which is as much as if he should say, that he maketh it altogether barren, as if one had sowed salt there. Adding also afterwards, that it is for the wickedness of those that dwell therein, & that contrariwise he turneth the deserts into pools of water, and the drie-land into water-springs, making it an habitation for such as were famished, who there sow the fields and plant vines, which bring forth yearly fruit. For this cause the Lord being angry with his people, saith by Isay, 
Isay. 5.  [I will command the clouds that they shall distill no rain upon my vineyard.] Meaning by this kind of speech, his people whom he hath elected. And surely the holy spirit would give us to understand this one thing more in this text, that as the earth waxeth barren, if it be not watered by rain from heaven; so men cannot perform any thing, if God power not down his grace upon them, as he causeth the raine-waters to shower down upon the earth. Wherefore as it is unfruitful, not being watered from heaven: even so is mankind, when God withdraweth his blessing. For we are all cursed by nature, as the earth is, as we even now heard the Apostle give evidence.  
When therefore it pleaseth the creator, he commandeth the clouds to distribute their waters, to the end that the earth may be moistened & watered, to make it fertile. And therefore the kingly Prophet saith again. [Thou visitest the earth and watrest it: 
Psal. 65. Of the fertility caused by rain.  thou makest it very rich; the river of God is full of water; thou preparest the corn, for so thou appointest it. Thou watrest abundantly the furrows thereof; thou causest the rain to descend into the valleys thereof; thou makest it soft with showers, and blessest the bud thereof. Thou crownest the year with thy goodness, and thy steps drop fatness.] Meaning by the steps or paths, and walks of the Lord, the clouds, for that the Scripture proposeth him unto us, walking upon them: and by fatness he understandeth the rain which droppeth upon the earth, as it doth also serve therefore. And in another Psalm he again recordeth: [The Lord watereth the mountains from his lofty chambers:] which is as much to say, as God causeth it to rain upon the mountains to make them fruitful. And therefore he further addeth, [That the earth is filled with the fruit of his works.] Wherein the Prophet doth also expound his own meaning, saying before, that the Almighty laid the planchers of his high chambers amongst the waters, and after that he hath generally entreated of the fertility which God bestoweth upon the earth, by means of the rain, he doth declare it more particularly, 
Psal. 104.  saying [He causeth grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the use of man, that he may bring forth bread out of the earth; and wind that maketh glad the heart of man; and oil that maketh the face to shine, and bread that strengtheneth man's heart. The high trees are satisfied, even the Cedars of Libanon, which he hath planted. That the birds may make their nests there: the Stork dwelleth in the fir-tree.] Where we clearly behold how God sendeth his blessing upon the earth, by means of the rain, to the end that it may bring forth fruits, not only for the nourishment of men; but also for the commodity of beasts. Which may serve us for a certain testimony of his providence towards mankind. 
Testimony of the providence of God towards men.  For if he hath care of the bruit beasts which he hath created for men; there is no doubt, but he hath much more care of them whom he hath created after his own image and semblance, and above all, of his children and elect. And for this cause also the Psalmist signifieth, how that God hath not only been careful to provide for their necessities, as for the necessities of other creatures; but it hath also pleased him to bestow upon them pleasures and honest comforts, convenient both for his Majesty, as also for the nature of man: when he saith, that GOD hath given wine to man to make him merry; and oil to make his face shine. For although he already had the waters for drink, and which might suffice him to staunch his thirst, and for his necessary beverage, it hath nevertheless pleased him through his great liberality to bestow wine upon him also, which is a much more delicious drink, and which doth so comfort him, that it bringeth joy & pleasure to him. And for oil, it doth not only serve in meats and medicinal ointments; but also to make compositions and sweet savours, to beautify and refresh man's countenance. Which specialties the prophet would not omit: because that in his days oil was in great use, to make such precious ointments, as the ancients used to anoint themselves withal, as is now adays done with oil of Spike, and other such odoriferous oils and sweet water. 
2. King. 4.  And if God hath at some times multiplied by the hands of his faithful ministers the poor widows oil (as his word teacheth us) he causeth it to abound much more every day, when he maketh it increase in the lands which he hath destinated to that purpose, converting the water, which runneth upon the olive trees into oil: yea and that water, which droppeth upon the earth into corn and bread, which he daily doth much more abundantly multiply then in times past he did the poor widows meal by Elias, 
1. King. 17. Matth. 14. & 15.  yea then jesus Christ did multiply the loaves in the wilderness. And therefore if we shall consider how the Almighty creator of heaven & earth causeth so many fruits to grow in this round-masse through the distillations of rain, and through the heat of the Sun, we hold in great admiration this worthy natural Alchemy, which he hath set before our eyes in the nature by him created. 
Of true natural Alchemy.  For all this world is to him as a furnace, and a limbeck wherein he maketh so many goodly and profitable distillations, that it is altogether impossible to express in words their worth and value. The earth is this furnace, and all the plants and trees so many limbecks. And if we have in such estimation the distillations made by men following some imitation of nature, this surely is a kind of Alchemy very worthy of great reputation and wonder. For let us consider only what it is that he extracteth out of a vine stock and the branches. There is no doubt but that this is a plant of no great show, so that many have doubted whether it might rightfully be counted amongst trees, for besides that it is crooked, it is so weak that it cannot stand upright, nor sustain not only the branches thereof, but even itself, if it be not always propped, at leastwise when it riseth never so little high: And yet this is a marvelous and very rare Limbeck, wherein God converteth water into wine, and maketh it to distill out. The like may we say of Olive-trees, figtrees, and many other fruit-trees, saving that they make more show, and retain more of the nature of a tree, than the vine doth. For all the excellent liquors and fruits, which we draw out of these plants, and all others, are principally caused by the heat of the sun, and by the waterings of rain from heaven, which by this means seemeth to change nature, and put on divers forms. And yet this sun, by means of whom, as by a fire, God performeth so many sundry and admirable conversions and distillations, hath not his face smeared with coals, to kindle and maintain his fire, nor yet his fair eye soiled therewith, or with any smoke. So then I hold them very wise, who profit in the contemplation of this Alchemy, and employ their time and cunning therein, as husbandmen do who till the earth, attending in good hope after their travel, the blessing which is promised them of God, as he also doth daily send upon the earth by the effects of the sun, moon, stars, and planets; of the air, clouds, rain, and such other means which it pleaseth him to use for the same purpose. 
Psal. 127.  For we may fitly say with Solomon, that without this blessing, it is in vain for those, which eat the bread of their travel, 
Deut. 11.  to rise early, & to go late to bed. For it is he that hath promised the first and the latter rain, aswell for the time to sow in, as for to ripen and gather fruits in: using for this purpose (according to the testimony of the prophet) great clouds in form of chariots, 
Psal. 18. & 104.  whereupon being borne on the wings of the wind, he maketh the winds his messengers. And sith we are in this talk, before we deal with any other subject, let us acquit ourselves of that which we have promised, to entreat in a particular discourse concerning the winds: the charge whereof (ARAM) I impose upon you.   

Of the winds, and of their kinds and names: and of the testimonies which we have in them of the power and majesty of God. Chapter 51.  ARAM. 

Hist. nat. lib. 2.  ACcording to the testimony of Pliny, there are more than twenty Greek authors and many other ancients, who have entreated of the nature of the winds. But to know from whence they proceeded, the difficulties & doubts are great & uncertain amongst them, and amongst all the philosophers. Yet that is the only truth, which the divine poet teacheth us, saying, 
Psal. 135.  [That the Lord draweth the winds out of his treasures.] Aristotle in his Meteors maintaineth that the winds are produced by the heat of the sun: which it seemeth that the author of the natural history doth contradict when he saith, that there are certain caves wherein the winds are ordinarily engendered, as may be seen in a deep pit, which is in the coasts of Dalmatia at Senta, wherein if one cast any thing, how light soever it be, there issueth suddenly out a whirlwind, although the weather be never so calm and fair. And in many obscure places in houses, one shall commonly feel a certain small wind, as if it were enclosed therein. But we must note that there is much difference betwixt these particularities, or small puffs caused by exhalations, which proceed out of the earth, and that, which is properly named the wind. For they are not felt in one place only, but have their course generally through all the earth, and their means limited therein to exercise their power. 
divers opinions concerning the generation of winds.  And therefore whether the wind be engendered by continual motion of the heaven, or by the cross motions of the planets, which go contrary to that of the firmament, or else that the wind be an air driven by the sundry turnings of the spheres, and by the multiplicity of the beams of the celestial signs, or else that it proceed from stars particularly appointed to engender it; or from the fixed stars (for all these opinions are found amongst Philosophers:) yet nevertheless we see by experience, that the wind is subject to the rules and laws of nature, & that it hath his determinate course, although man's wit cannot pierce to sound the reason of this secret.  
But for the names and species of these winds, they have amply entreated thereof. True it is that the ancients made mention but of four winds, which they comprised under the four parts of the world. And then the natural Philosophers appointed twelve, giving them names taken partly from the regions from which they proceeded, and partly from the effects and qualities which they cause upon the earth. But the Hydrographers and mariners account sixteen. 
Of the names, and kinds of the winds.  To have the understanding of which, we must note that every horizon is divided into four quarters by two right lines, which cross in the centre thereof: the one of which is correspondent to the Meridian circle, and the other to the vertical circle, which divideth the same Meridian at right angles, which lines demonstrate the four principal parts of the earth, that is, the East, West, North, and South part: of which proceed the four principal winds, to wit, out of the Septentrional part, the North wind: from the Meridional the south: from the Oriental the East: and from the Occidental the West: Between which are other middle and notable winds, whose names are compounded of those of the four foresaid winds, and are therefore called north-east, Northwest; Southeast, and south-west. Then again each distinction of these eight winds, is consequently divided into two equal parts, which make the distinctions of eight other winds, called subprincipall, and which compound their names of their two next collateral winds, expressing the most notable first: to wit, Northnortheast, Northnorthwest; Southsoutheast, Southsouthwest; Eastnortheast, Eastsoutheast; Westnorthwest, West-south-west. Moreover they that frequent the Mediterran sea (as Greekes and Italians) do call the north Transmontano: the south, Austro: east, Levante: west, Ponante: North-east, Greco: northwest, Maestro: southeast, Sirocho: south-west, Garbin: and so of them compound the names of the other eight winds, which are betwixt them, as hath been before declared. And we must note that the winds have commonly every one their turn in such sort that when one opposite wind ceaseth and is laid, his contrary riseth. 
Notable things in the winds.  But if at any time the next wind to that which ceaseth, begin to blow, it runs byas-wise from left hand to right, as the sun doth, and one may know the fourth day of the moon, what wind will reign longest during her time. But the eastern winds do longer endure then those which rise towards the west. And the sun doth strengthen the wind, and also appease it: for at his rising & setting they are commonly greatest, at noon he calmeth them, especially in summer. The wind is also commonly found to lie still, either at midday, or at midnight: for it doth always cease either through great cold, or through vehement heat. Likewise the rain doth make it cease: whereupon this proverb sprung up, that little rain allaieth much wind.  
But it is wondrous, that the winds, which are as it were but a puff, should perform such things as men could not do with their hands, yea though there were a multitude together. For how many people need there be, yea horses and oxen yoked together to break, burst, and pull up the great and mighty trees, which the wind abateth, overturneth, breaketh, and rooteth up, with a blast only? And herein we have goodly matter again, 
Testimonies of the divine omnipotency in the winds.  whereby to profit in the acknowledgement of the sovereign majesty and almighty providence of the creator and governor of all nature. For it is certain, that as the Lord manifesteth himself to men, such as they may comprehend him to be, when he calleth the sound and noise of thunder (his voice) that he performeth admirable things, as we have already noted: we may perceive that he doth the like also by violence of the winds. And therefore the prophet saith, [I know that the Lord is great, and that our God is above all Gods. Whatsoever pleased the Lord, 
Psal. 135.  that did he in heaven and in earth, in the sea, and in all the depths. He bringeth up the clouds from the ends of the earth, and maketh the lightnings with the rain; he draweth forth the wind out of his treasures. 
jerem. 10. ] It is he (saith jeremy) that giveth by his voice the multitude of waters in the heaven, and he causeth the clouds to ascend from the ends of the earth, he casteth out lightnings in the rain, and bringeth forth the winds out of his treasures. [The wind (saith the Preacher) goeth toward the south, 
Eccles. 1.  and compasseth toward the north: the wind goeth round about, and returneth by his circuits.] Now if the blasts of the winds be so strong, it must needs be, that the bellows out of which they are blown must be puissant and mighty. For although it is written of the wicked, 
Psal. 10.  that they are so proud and do presume so much of their force and power, that they seem to be able to overthrow men, towns, and fortified places only with a blast; yet nevertheless it is the Lord, who hath the power to abate them, and all the lofty and stout with all their forts and bulwarks: For all the winds together, are but as one little puff, which passeth from his mouth. Wherefore if in breathing only, he driveth and removeth heaven, earth, and the sea, and all this world, performing acts so great and wonderful: what may we esteem of his sovereign force, when he would employ his whole power? For there is neither wind nor thunder, nor deluges of water, nor any thing that is comparable to the wrath of God, and to the power which he hath to execute his vengeance upon his enemies. But he emploieth his creatures, as the ministers of his wrath, when, and how he pleaseth. And therefore the divine poet in his canticles, wishing lively to describe the assistance that God had showed him, 
Psal. 18.  in delivering him out of the hands of the wicked, and in punishing them; he proposeth him coming accompanied with fearful thunders, with thick clouds, with vehement winds and storms, with lightnings, tempests, great rain, hard hail, and dark weather, so that the foundations of the sea, and of the earth covered with waters, were discovered, and the earth was moved and trembled, the mountains shook and bowed because of the fury of the wrath of the Lord. For indeed who is God but the Lord, and who is mighty but our God? Now it is certain, that because men cannot comprehend the greatness of the power and wrath of God against the wicked, the holy Ghost doth often speak of natural things by the prophets, for to make them understand by that, which is visible in nature, and which may most astonish and affray them. So than if we shall consider so many excellent points of doctrine concerning the providence of God, as are taught us in the school of nature, by means of the meteors (as we have hitherto discoursed) of the clouds, thunders, lightnings, storms, floods of water, winds, whirlwinds, and tempests, they will serve us no less for preachers, than the celestial bodies do, to manifest unto us especially the judgements and heavy plagues of the almighty, and to make us oftener think thereupon then we do: as also the rains, by the fertility which they cause in the earth, will minister matter unto us to acknowledge his blessing, and perpetual grace upon those, who fear and honour him. Wherefore we have rested long enough in that which particularly concerneth and is dependent upon the two higher elements, the fire and the air: saving that, before we entreat of the earth, and of the water, and of the principal things worthy of consideration in them, we will say somewhat concerning the birds of the air, seeing that we have already comprised them, as in truth they must be, amongst the things conjoined and depending upon the higher elements, I will leave you then (ACHITOB) to discourse upon their nature.   

Of the fowls of the air: and namely of the Manucodiata, of the Eagle, of the Phoenix, and of other wild foul. Chap. 52.  ACHITOB. 
Having discoursed (though simply like disciples of Christian doctrine, and not like masters and professors of natural philosophy) upon the two higher elements the fire and the air, and having considered their nature and effects, and the things engendered in them, and by them: it falleth very fitly for us, to entreat of the visible creatures, which converse in the air, 
Psal. 8. Matth. 6. Luk. 8. Genes. 1.  and of which the holy scripture speaketh in divers places, under the name of the fowls of the air: considering also that Moses teacheth, that the fowls and fishes were created before any of the terrestrial creatures. For as there is a greater accord between the two elements of water and air, then of air and earth; even so is there a more correspondency of nature between fishes and fowls, then between beasts of the earth and fowls. For the flying of birds in the air is like the swimming of fishes in the water. Moreover there are many water-foules, which are as it were of a middle nature between those which converse but only in the air, or in the earth, and which therein receive their nurture, and between the fishes that live in the waters. For these birds fly in the air like other birds, and swim also in the water like fishes, and live partly in the water and partly in the air. But before we entreat particularly of these things, it seemeth good to me to note upon the beginning of our discourse concerning living creatures, that there are two principal kinds of living creatures, 
Of two principal kinds of beasts.  the first are those, which have life in every part being divided and cut asunder, called in Latin (Insecta) because of the incisions which they seem to have upon their bodies, and which are engendered of putrefaction. The second sort is of perfect creatures, to whom the former properties agree not, but they have their generation through propagation and race. Now we must hereafter speak of insect creatures. And for the perfect, 
Of nine kinds of perfect beasts.  there are found nine principal kinds of them, whereof some remain only in the air, and have no feet, as the bird called (Manucodiata:) other converse in the air and in the earth, as (the Eagle) and sundry other birds: some are earthly, and yet like fowls nevertheless, as is (the Ostrich:) some inhabit both in the earth and in the water, as (the Beaver) called in Latin (Fiber:) some fowls swim as (the swan:) some creatures are flying fishes: others are altogether earthly (as the dog:) some keep under ground as (the Mole:) others live in the water only as (the dolphin:) our speech then shall be concerning these nine kinds of creatures, and we will briefly discourse of some of the most excellent of them.  

Of the bird named Manucodiata.  Now to begin with the birds according as the order of our treatise doth require, we will speak of the Manucodiata, commonly called the bird of God, or of paradise, according to the interpretation of the Indian name, which bird is found dead upon the earth, or in the sea, in the Isles named The Malucos, because it is never seen alive out of the air: For this bird only hath no feet, for that it abideth aloft in the air, and far out of man's sight, having the body and beak like a swallow, both in bigness and form. The feathers of his wings and tail, are longer than those of a sparrow-hawk, but very slender, agreeable to the smalenes of the bird. The back of the cock is hollow, whereby reason showeth, that the hen layeth her eggs in this hollowness, seeing that she hath the like crevice in her belly, so that by means of both these pits she may hatch her eggs. The meat of this foul is the dew of heaven, which serveth it for meat & drink: it never faileth, but through age only: and so long as they live they sustain themselves with their own wings, and their tail being spread out in a roundness: by which means it doth more commodiously inhabit in the air.  

Of Eagles. Hist. nat. lib. 10.  Next I proceed to the birds which converse in the air, and in the earth: of which the Eagle for greatness and strength beareth away the price. Pliny setteth down six kinds; of which the least in body, called the black eagle, is strongest, and it of all others doth only nourish her eagletss. For all the rest chase and drive away their young ones, because that when they have them, their nails and claws are turned upside down, as if nature would declare herself very provident in this, to deprive the eagle of all means to help itself with any more purchase, then will even serve her own turn; for otherwise it would destroy all the young venison of a country: therefore through hunger which by this occasion they do then sustain, they become white and hate their young ones. But the Ossifragis, which are another sort of wild eagles, do, as divers affirm, gather together the young eagletss which their dam hath expelled, and do nourish them with their own. And eagles never die through age, or any other malady but for hunger only, their uppermost beak growing so great and so crooked, that it is impossible for them to open their mouths to feed themselves. Their feathers being mingled with the feathers of other birds, do devour and consume them.  
The Phoenix is said to be found in no other place of the world but only in Arabia, & is very seldom seen. It is as big as an eagle, 
Of the Phoenix.  and the plumes of her tail are guilded, being intermixed with certain blue and carnation feathers, the rest of her body being of a purple colour. She hath her head decked with exquisite plumes, and with a tuft of very goodly feathers. She liveth six hundred and sixty years, as Manilius a Senator of Rome recordeth, and so Pliny doth make report. And feeling herself aged, 
Hist. not lib. 10.  she maketh her nest with pieces of cinnamon and incense, and having filled it with all sorts of aromatical odours, she dieth thereupon. And out of her marrow and bones there cometh first a worm, which afterward turneth to a little bird, that in time proveth another Phoenix.  
Some report almost the very same of a bird called Semenda, which is found in the midst of India, which hath her bill cloven into three parts, bored and pierced every where through, and she singeth at her death as the swan doth. Afterward by beating of her wings she kindleth a fire made of the twigs of a vine, which she gathereth together, wherewith she is burned, and of her ashes there is a worm engendered, of which springeth again another like bird.  
Swans are birds clean white, and differ but little from geese, 
Of Swans.  except in bigness. They sing sweetelier than any other fowls. Their property is to tear their young ones in pieces and to devour them, for which cause they are very rare to be found. And some say, that they presage their death by their songs.  
Cranes come from the farthest oriental seas of India into the regions of Europe: and do never part from any place, 
Of Cranes.  but that they seem to do it with counsel, and by the common consent of all: and by the same means they elect a king to conduct them. They always soar very high, so to make a farther discovery of the country. Every troop hath a captain, who is always in the rearward: at whose only cry all the rest do obey and do keep their ranks and order; and each of them taketh his place by turns. They do also set their night watch, and keep sentinel one after another. The sentinel standeth upon one foot only, holding a little stone in the other, to the end, that if he happen to sleep, the stone which falleth out of his paw might waken him. All the rest do this while sleep, having their head under their wing, keeping watch nevertheless, sometimes upon one foot, sometimes upon another. But their captain holdeth his head always in the air, to make sign to the rest, of what they are to do.  

Of Storks.  The Storks are resident in winter in Egypt and in Africa; and in summer in many other warm countries. When they will pass to any country, they do all assemble in one place at a day appointed, and so departed in a troop. Some say they have no tongues. In Thumenestia this kind of foul is had in such respect, because they rid the country of serpents, that no man dare kill any one upon pain of hanging, and to be punished as an homicide: for such are the laws of the country. And in Suessia the like is almost used. The storks do never change their nests: and do retain this property by nature, that the young ones nourish the old so long as they live.  

Of wild-geese.  Wild-geese are a kind of wild fowls as the foresaid birds, they make their squadrons pointed like the beak of a ship, (for so they cut the air better than if they should fly in a square) and they spread themselves abroad by little and little behind like a corner, the better to gain the wind, which guideth them. The hindermost-doe commonly rest their heads upon the foremost, and when the guide is weary of going before, he cometh hindmost, to the end that every one may keep his turn.  

Of Quails.  Quails are also a kind of flying fowls, very small of body, but singular in divers properties. They soar not very high in the air in these countries, but fly near to the ground. They fly in troops, and that sometimes to the great danger of those which sail upon the sea, or are near the ground: For these birds do perch in so great number by night upon the sails, that they oftentimes sink barks and small vessels. They know their ordinary perches, and do never fly abroad in a south wind, because it is too heavy, and too moist: and yet they must of necessity be aided by the wind, to perform their voyage, by reason that their bodies are more heavy than their wings can sustain. And therefore they hang their wings, as if they were pained with flying: So than they make choice of the northern wind for their coming: And when they retire themselves, they assemble their troops. If the wind be contrary to them, they swallow much gravel, and take little stones in their talents, to make themselves more heavy, that they may not be carried away by the wind.  
Swallows also are a kind of wild fowl, 
Of Swallows.  for they go away in winter. But they retire not themselves very far off, but keep in those coasts which are warmed with the Sun, many are seen bare and unfledged. This bird only, of all those that have not crooked claws, doth feed on flesh. One may put in the number of wild fowls, Blacke-birdes, Thrushes, stars, 
Other wild fowls.  Ringdoves and Pigeons, although they use not to retire to far countries. But they mew not as others do, neither keep themselves close, for they are usually seen in the country where they winter. The property of stars is to go in a great troop together, and to fly in a round, every one of them endeavouring to gain the middle place. The swallow only of all other birds flieth askew, & is passing quick of wing; so likewise is it hardest of all birds to be taken. Moreover it is peculiar to her, not to feed but in flying. Thus than you see what I thought to deduce briefly concerning wildfowl. You ASER shall prosecute the discourse of this matter.   

Of singing birds, and chief of the Nightingale, and of sundry others, and of their wit and industry. Chap. 53.  ASER. 
NAture showeth herself very admirable, in that she doth not produce every thing indifferently in all places; nor doth privilege some countries rather than others, as well for plants, as for living creatures endued with sense: so that many times that which men think to bring home for mere strangeness, dieth before it come there. To declare, that it is very difficult (if not altogether impossible) to make any thing live in what place soever, 
Rareness, and changes of many birds.  against the ordinance of nature. So it was, that in the whole Isle of Rhodes there could not be found one only nest of an Eagle, though that in the neighbouring territories there were enough. So though the lake of Como, which is on the other side of the river Po in Italy, be very plentiful in fruit trees & fair pasturage: yet for all this there cannot be found within eight miles almost one stork. It is said also, that in all Tarentum there is not one woodpecker to be found. And in the territory of Athens, the partridges pass not the limits of Boeotia: So in Mar Maggiore, or the Euxine sea, there is no fowl seen. And in Volaterra the ringdoves are seen to come every year in great volleys over the sea. But besides all this, there is great difference in seasons for birds: for some appear all the year long; others show themselves but half the year; & some are seen abroad but three months. Some also go away presently after they have hatched and brought up their young ones. But above all, there are marvelous things found in singing birds. For some there are which change their feathers and their note, one season of the year; so that one would say, they were quite other birds: which happeneth not to the greater fowls, except to the crane, which waxeth black in age. Blackbirds, 
Of blackbirdes.  which are naturally black, being old, become of a reddish colour. They sing in summer; in winter they do but chatter; and are altogether dumb, when the days begin to lengthen, as about mid-December: and the cocks of a year old, have an ivory white bill. Thrushes have their neck particoloured in summer, but in winter it is all of one colour.  

Of the Nightingale.  But amongst singing birds the nightingale is most admirable. For it is a miracle that so shrill a voice can proceed out of so small a body, and that it can hold breath so long. Moreover, it hath a very harmonious note, and perfectly musical. For sometimes she draweth out her notes long, another while she quavers; straightways she cuts her tune short; and then she will warble, as if it were by musical crotchets. Another time she will whistle producing her notes with one breath, by and by quickening her tune, as if it were by semibriefes: sometimes abasing her voice, presently raising it, and by and by after cutting it thick and short. Sometimes also she will make the points of the organs, lifting her voice high like a pipe, when she listeth, observing sometimes the triple, sometimes the base, and sometimes the counter-tenor. Finally, there is no instrument in the world, wherein one may find more perfect music, than this which resoundeth in so small a throat. And that which merits greater marvel in this bird, is, that there are many songs all different, and that every nightingale hath her own in particular. So also they debate amongst themselves who shall sing best, contending herein one against another: so that sometimes the vanquished cease rather through want of breath, then of song. And the young little nightingales hearken to the old, and do record by themselves apart the songs which they heard, from point to point: so that these disciples, after they have attentively harkened, do repeat the lesson which they have learned, & then cease. Then may one hear the reprehensions of the schoolmaster, and may very well discern when the scholar is waxed cunning. Moreover the excellency of their singing doth not commonly endure above fifteen days and fifteen nights: all which time they sing without ceasing: and that is when the trees begin to wax thick of leaves in spring-time. And afterwards this great melody beginneth by little and little to cease: and yet not so, that one may perceive them to be weary of their singing. And when the heat gins to trouble them, they whistle not as before, but change their voice and sing a full note. They also mew and change feathers. To conclude, they retire themselves in winter like all other wild fowl.  
Also Finches and linnets are numbered amongst those little birds, that sing very harmoniously, 
Of finches, and linnets, parrots, and pies.  and easily retain that which is taught them, whether it be in voice, or by any demonstration that they may imitate either in foot or bill. But above all birds, parrots do most counterfeit the voice and speech of man. They come from the Indies, and have commonly their feathers green, except only a collar of red vermilion feathers that compasseth their neck: this bird speaketh all that which one will take pains to teach her. It loveth wine much, and having well drunk, is much pleasanter. There is likewise a kind of Pies which do pronounce better that which is taught them, than the parrots do: yet are they not so much accounted of, because they are ordinary with us. They take pleasure in the words which they speak, and do so delight in them, that one shall often find them studying very attentively by themselves, that which hath been showed them. crows also do easily learn to speak, and show many testimonies of great wit and industry. 
A marvelous history of a crow.  There was one in the time of the Emperor Tiberius so admired and loved of the people of Rome, that they revenged cruelly the death thereof upon him that killed it. It had been nourished by a shoemaker, & so taught and instructed, that it flew every morning to the palace to salute the Emperor, and after him all the other princes, naming them by their names, and then returned to the shop to her master, continuing this use for many years, to the great astonishment of every one. It happened that a certain spiteful neighbour of this shoemaker, taking occasion for that this crow had muted upon some of his ware, did kill it. Whereat the people took such indignation, that they caused this poor merchant to lose his life: preparing on the other side very magnificent funerals for the bird. For the carcase thereof was covered over with nosegays and chaplets of flowers, and borne by two Moors to the fire, which was kindled in a void place, there to burn it solemnly; so much was the understanding of this crow esteemed in a city, where many princes and great personages had died before, and none would solemnize their funerals: and wherein there was none that would revenge the death of Scipio Africanus, though he had conquered the Carthaginians and Numantines.  

Of the industry of birds in making their nests.  But since we are lighted upon a discourse concerning a kind of towardness and facility to learn, which is found in many birds; we may not pass over in silence the marvelous industry of their architecture, in the building of their nests: for all of them, and especially the small ones do use a wonderful dexterity therein. And that I may not be too tedious in this point; I will produce for testimony but the swallows only, who build their nests of dirt or clay, and strengthen them with straw. And if perhaps the dryness of the weather will not minister dirt enough for them, than they load themselves with water, which they shake upon the ground, to moisten the dust, and to make slime. The inside of the nest is all covered and lined with down and flocks, both of wool, and of other things; to the end to keep their eggs warm, and that their young ones may afterward find their bed soft. Which they always keep very clean, by casting very carefully out of it all the ordures of their little ones, which being grown bigger they teach to mute out of the nest. There is another kind of field swallows, which do seldom make their nests in houses; & yet they make them of such stuff as the others do, though not after the same manner: for all their nests are turned upside down, and have a very straight mouth, but a large paunch: so that it is an admirable thing to see the industry, which they use to keep their young ones soft and warm. Of the nests of these swallows joined and fastened one upon another, there is a bank in the mouth of Nilus which is near to Heraclia in Egypt (as Pliny reciteth) of six and twenty paces in length, 
Lib. 10 〈…〉.  and so strong that it resisteth the ragings and inundations of this flood: a thing, which one may say were impossible to be performed by the hand of man. But we should find writing matter enough to fill up a great volume, if we were minded to entreat of all the excellent properties which are in the nature of birds: but our intent is not to dwell long upon this subject; as namely to speak of all their different species, whereof many learned men have written: but only to consider summarily of certain of the most notable, as we will do in regard of all other creatures both living and destitute of life; to the end that we may nothing at all deprive any part of this vniuers, which we do here contemplate, of those goodly portraitures of the divine majesty, which are engraven in every part from the highest heaven to the lowest centre of this terrestrial mass. Look then (AMANA) what birds you hold most worthy to have place in your discourse.   

Of the Ostrich, of the Peacock, of the Cock, and of other fowls. Chap. 54.  AMANA. 
AS we have heretofore heard of a bird that never abideth upon the earth; so contrariwise the Ostrich doth always stay upon the earth, 
Of the Ostrich.  never mounting aloft to take the air. This is as big a bird as any other, & is common in Africa, & in Aethiopia. It hath a long neck like a camel; the beak, eyes, and head like to a goose, but that they are much greater: their wings & tail have feathers of divers colours, sky-coloured, white, red, black and green, and there is no bird which hath such fair plumes, of which those feathers are made wherewith men of war adorn their helmets. The Ostriches pass horses in swiftness, being herein aided with the wings which Nature hath bestowed upon them, although they fly not at all, neither rise from the ground, but run with their wings spread. They have cloven feet like an hart: with which (men say) they use to take up and cast stones at those which chase them when they fly. It is also said that they swallow and digest iron: which cometh to pass through the vehement heat and thickness of their belly. Some also have reported, that the Ostrich hatcheth her eggs with her eyes: but the truth is, that she only watcheth them; because that her young ones are brought forth by the heat of the sun. The manner of taking this bird is very easy; for when he is weary of running, he is of so foolish a nature, that he thinketh himself closely hidden, when he is only in the shade of some tree or shrub; so that it is then easy to approach him so near as the pursuer will desire.  

Of the peacock.  But let us speak of the bird, which for the beauty and sense which it hath, doth merit the chief degree amongst the greater sort of birds; to wit, the Peacock. For when he knows that men esteem him, then turneth he round to show his colours shining like precious stones, and sets them directly against the sun, to give them a better lustre. And he assayeth also to do so with his tail, spreading it round and showing those colours, which seem fairest in the shade, drawing all the eyes thereof abroad, as if he knew best how to make himself most noted. Also when he hath lost his tail (as he doth every year at the fall of the leaf) he hideth himself, as if he mourned, till the next spring, when his tail groweth again. It is marvelous that this part of the peacock is so filled with eyes, being so long & thick of feathers of sundry colours, & so splendent; & yet neither the colour of white nor of black (this being of itself sad, and that obscuring all colours) are found in the tail of this bird. Which bird liveth ordinarily five and twenty years; and at three years he beginneth to shoot the sundry colours which he hath in his feathers, and knoweth his beauty: and seemeth to rejoice that men do marvel at his tail when they see it, and therefore he will hold it up, be he never so weary.  

Of the Cock.  Next to the proud nature of the peacock, that lofty bird seemeth to resemble a Sentinel, which Nature hath appointed to interrupt men's sleep and call them to work, that is, the Cock. For wheresoever he is he will be master, and command all the rest of the fowls. And if there be two together, then must this rule remain to the strongest, and he must get it by those weapons which Nature hath placed in his legs: wherein they put such trust, that the issue of their combat, doth oftentimes fall out with the death of the one or other. And he which remaineth victor, makes sign of his conquest by his crowing, sounding himself his own tantaraes: and the vanquished runs and hides himself. This lofty bird marcheth proudly, holding up his neck stiff, and his comb aloft, except he be not well. And there is no bird which doth oftener cast his eye towards heaven, than this: for he always beholdeth it, holding his tail up, and yet crooked like a sickle: so that arming himself after this manner, he puts the Lion in fear, which is the stoutest of all beasts. Moreover, the cock by a secret instinct of nature knoweth the course of the stars, and divideth the day by his crowing from three hours to three hours. They roost at sun set, and never let the sun rise, without advertising men: for with their crowing, which is accompanied with beating of their wings, they give notice of the day. And their voice is heard very far off, yea in the night time a mile, or more. The Romans honoured so much the majesty of this bird, that they judged of the good or evil luck of their Augurations, by the countenance which he showed, being either pleasant or not, at such time as he fed.  
Hens are of the kind of domestical birds, 
Of hens.  renowned above all for the delicateness of their flesh, and goodness of their eggs, being much better than all other, and which are most used in meats and medicines. They lay at all times, except the two first months of winter, when they commonly rest themselves: So is it the first and last bird that layeth; and is so fruitful, that there are some will lay sixty eggs together, without missing one day. Whereupon we will note that in all yolks of eggs, there is a little drop of blood in the midst, which is holden to be the heart of the bird, because this member is esteemed to be first form in all living creatures. And indeed this little drop tasteth very salt, and stirreth in the egg. And for that which particularly concerneth the chicken, it is certain that the body thereof is made of the white of the egg: for being form, it is nourished by the yolk. And so long as it is in the shell, it hath the head bigger than all the body, and the eyes, which are shut, bigger than the head. And when it beginneth to grow, the white of the egg retireth to the midst, and the yolk disperseth itself round about: And if at the twentieth day one take the egg, they may hear the chicken peep within. For from that time forward it beginneth to wax feathered, and to get strength: and stayeth not long in consuming the whole yolk, but presently beginneth to open the shell. And it is to be noted, that as well this as all other fowls, come out of their shells with their feet forwards, contrary to other living creatures. Moreover the hen is known to be good, when her crest is strait, and sometimes double, and her feathers black, and in some places red: as also when the claws of her foot are fair. But above all there is nothing more worthy of great admiration, than the care which it taketh to hatch and nourish her chickens: yea though they be not of her own kind. And it is a pretty pastime to make an hen hatch ducke-egges: For at first when they open the shell, she knoweth them not; and nevertheless having been a little accustomed to them, she doth nourish them as carefully as if they were naturally her own. And when these young ducks, according to their kind, cast themselves into the water, it is a wonder to see the mourning of the hen, fearing least ill should betide them.  

Of the pigeon.  The pigeon likewise is an house-bird much to be considered of, and bringeth no less profit and commodity than pullen do. It is very chaste by nature, and never changeth mate neither cock nor hen: and yet the cocks are very rude towards the hens, beating them with their bills, and chiding them with a kind of grumbling in their throat, as if they were jealous: But afterwards as if they repent themselves, they make much of them, and bill together, running round about them, and specially when their time of treading is come. Both cock and hen take great pains to hatch their young ones: insomuch that when the hens are idle, and tarry not in the nest, the cocks will correct and beat them with their beaks. But they do likewise aid them, as well helping them to make their nests, as to serve them while they hatch: yea and the cock doth sometimes hatch in the daytime. It is their property to bill together before they tread. And they lay ordinarily two eggs, out of which issue both cock and hen, that is, the cock first, and the hen the morrow after. They hatch commonly eighteen or twenty days, and breed after five times treading. And one shall sometimes find eggs with little pigeons in them: and shall see in one nest some young ones but newly out of the shell, and some that are ready to fly. They may lay eggs eight or ten times a year: but the ordinary use is to take out four good layings. They are of sundry colours of feathers, but the ashcoloured, or the brown, or the black are best: the rough footed, and tufted are most barren and domestical: so are the black and white chequered: but those that seem guilded about the neck, and that have the eye and foot red, are the freest and fruitfullest: the white are good to hatch, and most in danger of the kite, and birds of prey: the yellow and red are very barren. They have all this marvelous quality, to give their young ones at first some corn of salt gravel, so to provoke their appetite, and season them to eat, when time shall be. Now me thinketh, we have stayed long enough in this matter, sith we will not here describe a natural history of creatures: and sith that which we have discoursed concerning fowls, hath been only for that we will not deprive the air of the natural creatures thereof; as we will endeavour to do the like in the behalf of the earth and water: whereof the sequel of our speech requireth us to entreat, to accomplish our discourse concerning the elements. First then let us speak of the earth, and of the firmness, figure and quantity thereof. And it is your turn (ARAM) to discourse thereupon.   

Of the earth, and of the situation, immobility, figure, and quality thereof. Chapter 55.  ARAM. 
AS we have heretofore heard that under the name of heaven is comprised commonly both the supreme and middle region of the air, and all things also, which are conjoined unto them, and depending upon their effects, namely of the two higher elements the fire, & the air: so by the name of earth, we do often understand not only the lowest element of all, which is as the foot of all this mundane frame: but also the sea, which is next to it, and the lakes, ponds, fountains, rivers, and other waters, and all that is contained in them, and in the earth, and which receiveth life, and nourishment, whether they be men, beasts of all kinds, plants, trees, herbs, fruits, metals, mines, minerals, stones, and generally all other things produced here below for the use of all other creatures. Pursuing then the order of our discourse, we will first entreat of that which concerns in general the terrestrial globe, and afterwards will meditate of the most rare beauties, which every the parts thereof, to the end to represent unto ourselves more and more the greatness and glory of the creator of all these things, as we have already well begun in the matters by us hitherto entreated of.  

Situation of the earth.  Now it is certain, that by reason of the weight and heaviness of the earth, it is necessarily situated in the midst of the world, as the centre thereof, being the lowest place, and the farthest remote from the circumference of the whole. And from which the earth cannot be parted, (for otherwise it should mount aloft contrary to the natural inclination thereof) as likewise it cannot be moved by the first and universal motion of all the spheres, by reason of the foresaid heaviness thereof, and subtility of the other elements, which are about it: and again because it is of insensible quantity in respect of the whole world, as being the point and centre thereof, being also unmovable, to the end that the motion of the heavens might thereby be discerned, and that which dependeth thereupon. 
Immobility of the earth.  And as the seat of the elementary fire doth not extend beyond the fire, and as that of the water is in the place of water, and that of the air where the air should be: so the earth can retain no place but in itself; because that the other elements cannot suffer it to rest upon them. Which causeth that it remaineth hanged amongst them, not being able to fall, nor decline more towards one place, then another. Wherefore also it is made habitable in every part (except it be by accident: 
The earth habitable throughout. ) so that men are therefore Antipodes one to another, that is, going feet against feet, having nevertheless all of them their heads towards heaven, and meeting each of them in the midst of the earth. Now that it is justly situate in the midst of the vniuers, one may see by experience of the days and nights, which are equal throughout the whole earth, so often as the sun is in the midst of heaven betwixt the poles of the world; as also by the augmentations and diminutions of the same days and nights regularly proportioned one to another (as we have demonstrated in our precedent discourses upon the celestial spheres) and likewise by the eclipses of the moon, & by the inclination of shadows, which at noontide are one proportionable to another, as well on the meridional, as on the septentrional part. 
That the earth is round.  Moreover there is no doubt, but the earth (together with the whole element of water, which is spread abroad and dispersed in divers arms, and portions about it) is of a round and circular figure in all parts: for as for the mountains & valleys they are insensible in regard of the whole globe of earth. The roundness whereof doth evidently declare itself by the shadow thereof, which showeth itself in the eclipses of the moon to be round: for it could not seem so, if the earth were not also of the same form. Moreover, the divers and certain supputation that Astronomers calculate concerning the times of the eclipses of the moon, according as the places are more oriental, or more occidental, doth manifestly conclude the same round form: so also doth the natural inclination of all the parts of the earth, and of the water, who still tend down declining to a lower place: and this common descent of every part causeth this round figure. 
The earth is of insensible quantity.  Consequently it is to be noted, that this earthly frame, although it be in itself of marvelous greatness, yet is it of very little and insensible quantity, in regard and comparison not only of all the firmament, but also of the sphere of the sun, the same earth being but as a point in the midst of the whole world, which is apparently demonstrated by the foresaid equalities of the days and nights, and by the observations of the courses of the celestial bodies, and chief of the sun, taken here below by instruments fit for such effects, in such manner as if one were in the centre of the world. For in a little space that one may pass here upon the earth proceeding from one place to another, the view and disposition of heaven doth change and vary notably. And in an open plain place wherein one may stand upon the earth, or be in the sea, they may always discover the one half of heaven. All which things declare (as we have said) that the earth and the water make a round globe, which is but as a point and centre in regard of the universal world.  
So much for the situation, immobility, figure, 
That the earth only meriteth the title of a mother.  and quantity of the earth; which only above all other elements hath merited the title of a mother, by reason of the great good which it affordeth to all breathing & living creatures. For this gentle mother receiveth us when we are borne, she nourisheth us being borne; she maintaineth and sustaineth us being nourished; and finally, when the other elements refuse and leave us, she receiveth us into her bosom, and covereth us, having (as it were) a perpetual care of us. Moreover, she riseth not up against man as other creatures do. For the water converts itself into rain, snow, and hail; it swelleth in surges and waves, and overfloweth all with floods; the air thickeneth and ladeth itself with clouds, out of which proceed storms and tempests; and the fire is often cause of strange calamities upon earth: But this gentle and debonair mother maketh herself as a slave to serve for all the commodities of man. For how many things do we cause her to bear by force, and how many things doth she bestow of her own goodwill? What odours and perfumes, what savours, what juices, what, and how many sorts of colours? With what exchange and interest doth she restore that, which is lent her? How many sundry things doth she nourish for man? What quantity of precious metals doth she conceive, and keep in her entrails for his use? 
Of two kinds of earth.  And therefore it seemeth that the earth subsisteth not of one only kind: and indeed Aristotle divideth it into two; the one fossible, which may be digged; and the other transmutable, which may change quality. For the fossible earth, it doth always remain the same, and is very earth: but the transmutable remaineth not the same in kind, and in view; for it converteth itself into metal, or into juice, or into some other matter. But before we do proceed unto the consideration of so many admirable effects produced by the earth: we may now here behold, that we have summarily set down particulars enough, wherein we may learn to acknowledge the infinite power, wisdom, and bounty of God the creator: 
Testimonies of the power of God. Isay. 6.  and how according to the testimony of the angels, all the earth is full of his glory. For first of all, is not this a great wonder, that the earth which is so huge a mass, and the heaviest element of all the rest, should be hanged in the air in the midst of the world, being so counterpoised, that it sustaineth, as one may say, all the other elements, and that it is environed by them, and by all the other spheres and celestial bodies, it remaining firm for ever, not moving from the place thereof? For where are the columns and the pillars which bear and sustain it, and upon what foundation are they founded? And therefore it is not without cause, 
●ob. 38.  that the Lord saith to job, minding to cause him to acknowledge his power & majesty, [where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare if thou hast understanding, who hath laid the measure thereof, if thou knowest? Or who hath stretched the line over it? (to wit, to sign and mark out the foundations thereof) whereupon are the foundations thereof set? Or who hath laid the corner stone thereof?] And afterwards he addeth, [It is turned as clay to fashion.] Wherein it seemeth that he had reference to that, that he created the earth (as all this great visible world) in round form, because it is the most capable of all forms that may be. Behold then the testimony that God himself delivereth to job his servant of the admirable creation of the earth. 
Psal. 104.  And to the same purpose the kingly prophet saith, that God did form the earth upon the bases thereof (that is to say, upon firm foundations) so that it shall never move. But what may we say then to the motions and tremble of the earth, which have ever been known, and are ordinarily seen? This might seem repugnant to that, which David here speaketh, and to that which we have delivered concerning the immobility and firmness of the earth. And therefore mine advise is, that pursuing this discourse, we should consider the causes of such tremble, to the end that we may know, how that the earth faileth not to remain ever firm, though such shake happen in some parts thereof, which (ACHITOB) let us hear of you.   

Of earthquakes. Chap. 56.  ACHITOB. 
FOrasmuch as the earth is not only heavy by nature, but even the heaviest of all elements, and is heaped up and compacted together in the midst of the great universal world, as the point and centre thereof: it therefore followeth that it is immovable, and without any natural motion. For if it had any, as the other elements have, it is certain, that it must be downwards. But because that God hath placed the earth in the midst of all his works, towards which all heavy things tend and descend; it cannot descend lower than it is by the nature thereof. And therefore because it is  and thick, and not liquid and fluent as the water and the air, it cannot glide as they do, nor remove out of one place into another, if it be not by some violence elsewhere moved and made to stir, and tremble somewhere, as it hath happened through divers and marvelous earthquakes, of which histories and the holy scripture itself do give evidence. We must note then, that there are divers sorts of motions, by which the earth is so shaken, that it lifteth and casteth some parts, sometimes upwards, sometimes downwards. 
Of divers sorts of earthquakes.  And it is long of such motions and tremble, that there have such masses and heaps been cast out of it, that great isles have been newly made, as Geographers do witness, namely the isle of Rhodes, and of Selos. It sometimes also happeneth, that the motions of the earth be such, that it openeth like a great gulf, whereinto some parts thereof are clean swallowed up and devoured, together with the countries, and towns situate therein; so that there hath been no mark left of them, no more then as if they had never been. And it hath often happened in such cases, that some mountains have fallen one against another, because the earth, which was betwixt them hath sunk, and been swallowed clean up. And than one might say, that the proverb is not ever true, which saith, that two mountains never meet. There is yet another kind of motion, wherein the earth moveth and shaketh, sometimes one way, sometimes another way, and tottereth like a ship that floateth on the water. Which kind of trembling is most dangerous: as also when all the motion runneth one way. Then is there yet another motion, which philosophers properly call (trembling) to wit, when two motions are opposite one to another, as if two rams should rush one against another. And this is least dangerous of all: although indeed they be all very fearful, yet the fear is much greater, when the tremble continue with horrible and fearful sounds, like the bellowing of bulls, and as if the earth and all nature quaked and groaned, being sore pressed and forced, as is oftentimes seen.  

● the causes of earthquakes.  Now for the causes of all these kinds of earthquakes, I may well say, that there is no point in all natural philosophy, wherein the professors of this science find themselves more intricately entangled, nor wherein they more differ in opinions then in this. For the Chaldeans and Astronomers refer the causes of motions and earthquakes, to the heaven, to the stars, and to the planets, and many philosophers assign it to the water: And yet those, which are of this opinion differ amongst themselves. For some suppose that the earth floateth upon the water like a ship, because it is environed with water, according to the natural order of the disposition of the elements: whereby it is diversly moved. Others do attribute the cause of earthquakes to those waters only which are enclosed within the veins and caves of the earth. Some also to the fire: and some to the winds shut up within it: and some to the heat chased by the cold, which striveth against it, and causeth it to search an issue out. For as the water undermineth the earth, and those places through which it doth pass: even so may the fire do: and if either of them be so enclosed, that they cannot find an easy issue, they strive then to do it by force and violence. So do the winds, and the heat chased by the cold. So then, if the earth be undermined, it is no marvel if the upper part sink and fall down, being swallowed up, as into a gulf, considering that the earth, because of the heaviness thereof, tendeth always downward towards the centre thereof, which is the midst of it, and of all the world. And if the waters, or the fire, or the winds enclosed and shut up in the earth, or the contrary qualities, which contend one with another, cannot find a passage or issue, their power is so great, that they constrain the earth, which resisteth them, and by forcing it, make it to cleave and open, and to remove, and to shake in those places, wherein it is forced: Concerning all which things one may make a near conjecture, 
Of the force, and violence in artillery.  by the force and violence which is seen in ordinance and artillery. For every one beholdeth what force there is by means of fire, and of the matter enclosed within, to wit, powder, and of the contrary qualities whereof it is compounded, and of the wind that therein is engendered, not only to drive out with marvelous violence all the charge that therein is, but also many times to burst the piece itself, if there be any resistance to hinder it that it discharge not quickly, or if it be not well made, and very strong, and well proportioned to the charge. We behold also, what a wind there issueth out, and what noise it maketh, and how the noise makes the earth to sound and tremble: and oftentimes it happeneth, that this only wind killeth those that stand near the cannon's mouth, such is the violence thereof, although they be not touched at all with the bullet, that it shooteth. But we behold more clearly in mines, which are made under ground, the violence of this powder, when it is therein enclosed with the fire, which is set thereto by trains. For there is neither town nor castle, be they never so well founded, nor any fortress, which is not only shaken, but overturned also, like as by an horrible earthquake. Wherein we may note, how that it hath not been sufficient for men, to counterfeit thunders, and lightnings in artillery, but they have also invented the means to represent the motions and shake of the earth: in such manner as we have signified. There are some philosophers also, 
Earthquakes compared to agues.  who have taught, that the same reason is in earthquakes, as there is in the shaking of men's bodies: and that they are like fevers and maladies of the earth, which come unto it through divers causes, save that they hold not all the body thereof, as they do in men, but only some parts of it. For they argue that the water is in the earth, as the blood, which hath his course through the veins of man's body; and the wind is as the vital spirits, which pass through the arteries thereof. And as there happen divers stops in the body, which hinder the blood, and vital spirits, that they cannot keep their right course and ordinary passage, whereupon their order is troubled, and the body pained, in such sort that groans ensue, and difficulty of breathing, shake, and such like accidents: So is it with the body of the earth, when any thing happens to it contrary to the natural disposition thereof, by the means which we have already heard, whether by water, by fire, by wind and such like. Whereto we will add also this opinion of those, who attribute the cause of such motions and tremble, either to the dryness of the earth, which is the occasion, that it cleaveth and chappeth, and by this means gives open way to the air and to the winds, which penetrate thereinto; or else because of the older age thereof, to which they esteem all creatures subject: whereupon it happeneth to it, as to old buildings, which being ruinous and almost rotten, do fall down in some places of themselves.  
These are the divers opinions of men upon this matter: wherein if we desire to take a very short and sure way to attain to the true cause, we must refer it to the wrath and judgements of God, because that what causes soever the learned can invent, the Eternal showeth himself very powerful, 
The true cause of earthquakes and the profit that we may reap thereby.  and to be feared therein, considering that he hath disposed all of them, and that they all depend upon him alone. And surely this is a work of the omnipotent worthy to be wondered at, and which may well cause men to move and tremble before his majesty. For if he show himself terrible and fearful by deluges of water, by hail, thunder, lightning, storms and tempests, he doth no less by the motions and shake of the earth, which are in regard thereof, as thunders are in the air. For seeing that the earth is as the foot of the world, and that it is assigned to men for their habitation, whither is it that they may have recourse, if it quake under them, and fail to sustain them? Whither shall they retire, if she will allow them no more dwelling in her: but will spew them out as the scripture saith? For if it be hard for them to fly before fire, 
Levit. 19  and before water, and to find harbour against winds, thunders, and tempests; whither shall they fly, if the earth will not receive, nor bear them? And what dread may invade them, when sometimes it quaketh in such sort that it openeth, and is swallowed up, as into a bottomless pit; as it came to pass, when it swallowed Corah, Dathan, and Abiram, and their families? 
Nom. 16.  Who will not be astonished when it riseth up, overturning all, even the highest mountains, and hardest rocks, and moveth itself in such sort, that it maketh houses and buildings dance like rams and sheep, that would one butt at another, wherewith many are utterly destroyed: 
Examples of marvelous earth quakes.  as it happened in the year 1531. in the realm of Portugal, which was so shaken by an earthquake, that at Lisbon the chief city thereof, there were overthrown almost twelve hundred houses, besides a great number of others which were greatly spoiled. This horrible earthquake continued the space of eight days, and gave very furious assaults five or six times a day. And in the time of the Emperor Tiberius, twelve cities in Asia were quite ruinated in one night by an earthquake. And josephus recordeth that by another, 
Lib. 1 de bello. jud.  thirty thousand jews died. So justine recounteth, that by another earthquake many cities were destroyed, & an hundred and seventy thousand persons perished in the reign of Tigranes in Armenia. What causes then soever there may be in nature of so many terrible events; yet we must always have recourse to the Author and Governor thereof, without whom it can perform nothing: and he it is, 
Psal. 135.  that bringeth earthquakes out of his treasures, as he doth the winds; either by his commandment without a means; or by his ministers ordained thereto; or else by some power infused into things, the which may according to his good pleasure display itself in effect, to denounce his judgements on men. For he it is of whom the prophet speaketh. [The earth trembled and shaked, and the foundations of the mountains were moved and quaked, 
2. Sam. 22. Psal. 18.  and the foundations of heaven were bowed and trembled, because he was angry.] Wherefore we may very well conclude, 
Isay. 66. Matth. 5. Acts. 7.  that as God declareth his magnificence and wonderful glory in heaven, which is assigned to be his seat (as his word teacheth us, and as we have heretofore amply discoursed) so likewise he doth manifest it no less in the earth, which is his footstool, when he causeth it to shake and remove, as if being surprised with some great & strong fever, it shook & trembled before him. 
job. 9  And therefore job also saith: [The Eternal is wise in heart and mighty in strength; who hath been fierce against him, and hath prospered? He removeth mountains, and they feel not when he overthroweth them in his wrath. He removeth the earth out of her place, that the pillars thereof do shake: 
job. 26.  the pillars of heaven tremble and quake at his reproof.] But now let us note, that all that, which we have here delivered, disprooueth not the earth to remain always firm & immovable in itself, in so much as it moveth not out of the place which was appointed to it by God, neither doth it swerver never so little: considering that the movings and tremble are not universal, but particular only in some places, in such sort that the foundations thereof are not any whit altered. And if we consider well of these things, the Earth will serve no less for a preacher unto us, than the air and the fire, yea then all heaven to denounce unto us the sovereign majesty of the Almighty, ruling above all his works: as I hope to morrow, we may have goodly testimonies entreating of the water, which is dispersed throughout the earth, and afterwards speaking of the excellent commodities and precious riches, that these two elements do yield to men, into which matter you (ASER) shall enter with your discourse.  
The end of the seventh day.    

THE EIGHT DAYS WORK.  

Of the sea, and of the waters, and of the division and distribution of them throughout the earth. Chap. 57  ASER. 
THE holy Scripture doth certify us, how that in the beginning the earth was covered over with water, and that it appeared not in any sort, but only under the form of a great deep, till such time as God commanded the waters to retire into the channels and places, which he had prepared for their abode. So that then the earth was discovered, even so much thereof, as was needful for the habitation and nourishment of men and beasts. But this sovereign creator of the universe would not have the waters to be gathered all into one place, and not to have their course through the earth: but providing for every commodity for his creatures, he ordained, that out of the great Ocean sea, which is as the great body of the waters, there should issue divers arms and members, by means whereof we have the Mediterran seas: out of which again proceed many other waters, as lakes, floods, rivers and brooks. For although that all these waters seem to have their Springing out of certain fountains, which many affirm to be made of the air; yet the very truth is, that their chief source is out of the sea: which (as it is named in job) is as the womb, out of which all waters, both celestial and terrestrial have their first original, and do engender & repair themselves continually by the means that we have already heard. 
Why the water is mixed with the earth.  Now according to the opinion of the Philosophers, all reason teacheth us, that this ordinance in nature concerning the distribution of the waters throughout the earth, hath been made of necessity for the mutual maintenance of these two elements: for so much as the Earth being naturally dry, cannot subsist without moisture: and contrariwise the flowing water, could not have aught to stay upon, without being propped up by the earth. Wherefore it was necessary, that the earth should give it place, and that it should open all her veins and conduits, that the water might pass through the same, both within & upon it, yea and to pierce even to the highest mountain tops: in which place being pressed with the weight of the earth, and also in some place moved by the air, which driveth it, one shall see it issue out in great vehemency even as if it were squirted out.  
Whosoever then will consider of the whole circuit of the earth, shall learn that the moiety of the roundness thereof is environed by the sea, which floweth round about it, causing the waves thereof to go and come continually, sometimes aloft, and sometimes very low: like as if this terrene globe were a bowl cast into the water, one part whereof should lie discovered out of it, 
That the water is round.  and the other covered within it: Which water the Philosophers hold to be entirely round, having the open heaven in every part over it. And this is confirmed by those drops of water which fall upon the ground, or upon leaves of trees and of herbs, which are round. If also one fill a vessel top-brim-full of water, they may evidently behold, that the water riseth and swelleth in the midst, making a kind of round form. In truth, by reason that the water is subtle and soft, these things are far better comprehended by arguments and concluding reasons, wherewith the books of the learned are replenished, then by the view of the eye. Notwithstanding this is very admirable, that if one put never so little water into a vessel already brimme-full, the uppermost part thereof will shed over: and yet if one cast into the same so topful vessel, some heavy thing, yea to the weight of twenty pence, the water will not spill therefore, but will swell only, till such time as it stand much above the brim of the vessel, by the rising thereof. Moreover the roundness of the water, which causeth this, doth also make that those which are in the top of a ship, do sooner discover land, than those which are in the foredeck, or in the stern thereof: so likewise, if any shining thing be fastened to the top of the mast at parting from the port, it seemeth that the vessel still goeth downwards, till at length the sight of her will be clean lost. Moreover how should it be possible that the ocean sea, which environeth the earth, as being the mother-sea, and the receptacle of all the rest, doth not run abroad, considering there is no bank to withhold it, if it were not of round form? Wherein this is to be noted, that the water of the sea doth in no sort overpass the limits thereof, nor doth ever run but toward the place of the natural situation thereof. 
Why the water doth retain itself in itself, without running abroad.  Of which the Greek Philosophers have rendered an especial reason by Geometrical propositions and conclusions: making demonstration, that this water cannot run otherwise, what room or scope soever it have. For they say, that considering the nature of water is to fall always downward; and that also the sea stretcheth itself out, so far as it can; nevertheless according as the declining of the sea can suffer, as every one may see with his eye: and by how much the lower it is, by so much the more it doth approach to the centre of the earth: whereupon ensueth, that all lines drawn from that centre to the waters nearest to it, are shorter than those lines, which are drawn from the uppermost waters to the extremity of the sea: so that by that means, the water of the sea doth always decline towards the centre, from whence it can in no sort fall, but doth there retain itself.  
Surely if we do nearly consider this marvelous work of God (the sea and waters) we shall therein find goodly mirrors wherein to contemplate his majesty and greatness. 
Good christian instructions taken from the waters. Io●. 38.  According as he saith to his servant job, [Who hath shut up the sea with doors when it issued and came forth, as out of the womb? When I made the clouds as a covering thereof, and darkness as the swaddling bands thereof? When I established my commandment upon it, and set bars and doors: And said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther, and here shalt thou stay thy proud waves.] The like is also taught by the Psalmist, saying: 
Psas. 33.  [He gathereth the waters of the sea together, as upon an heap, and layeth up the depths in his treasures.] Which is as much as if he should say, (GOD holdeth back the waters, as with a bridle, that they may not overrun and cover the earth.) Wherein we are moreover to note, that the holy Ghost speaketh concerning the sea, in this fore-alleged text of job, and in many other places of scripture, as if it had some sense and understanding, and that God had caused it to hear his voice, and had commanded it, as he commandeth men, to obey his ordinance, although it be a senseless creature and without life; but this is to the end that we may better learn to acknowledge the power & providence of God over all his works. For the sea is not only deaf and deprived of all sense, and much more without understanding, but also exceeding furious and outrageous, being moved by force of winds and tempests, in such sort that it often seemeth, as if it would overrun and swallow up all the earth with the waves thereof, and would rise with the floods thereof and mount up to heaven. For one may behold how at one time the waves will swell and rise up like high mountains: and suddenly after, will tumble & couch down like valleys, & as if the sea would cleave and divide itself, and so discover the deep bottom thereof. 
Psal. 107.  And therefore the kingly prophet having divinely described all things, together with the power that the sovereign creator hath to raise, and to appease such tempests; he exhorteth all men to acknowledge this infinite power of the Eternal, and those great works and wonders, which he declareth in the sea: and to have recourse for their deliverance out of all dangers, to the creator and true Lord of the waters and of the winds, and of all nature. But yet we must here consider the obedience that the sea showeth, even in the greatest furies thereof, to the commandment which God hath delivered to it from the first creation thereof. For although it be often moved, as we said; yet doth it contain itself shut up within the bounds, which were appointed unto it by the ordinance of God, as if it were afraid to run out, and durst not pass farther, as having heard and understood that which the creator thereof had commanded, and had engraven it in memory for ever. And therefore we may see, that after it hath swollen & risen aloft in waves, and that it hath menaced the earth, as if it would overflow it, and cover it again with the deep, as at the beginning: it is neverthles arrested, and beaten back to return into the proper gulfs thereof, which are assigned for it to lodge in, even by a very little sand only. For what is the sea shore, but sand only, which is a kind of lose earth like the dust, and is easily driven with the wind? And yet the word of God, which hath given commandment to the sea (which is so horrible and fearful a creature being moved) is of such power; that this small sand is sufficient to make it keep within the confines and limits thereof, and to break the furious waves thereof, as if he, who hath established this ordinance in nature, stood in presence upon the shore side, to command it to do so, and that for fear and reverence of him, it returned to hide itself in the deep: How much more than should his word and voice move the hearts of men, breaking, cleaving, and piercing them through, if they were not harder than stones, and rocks, and more senseless than the waters? For this cause the Lord saith by Esaie: 
Isay. 66.  [And to whom shall I have respect, but to him that is afflicted, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my words?] And jeremy showing to the people of Israel the malice and rebellion, which was in them, 
jerem. 5.  against the Lord their God, doth give them the sea for a pattern, and referreth them to learn to obey their creator, after the example thereof. Let us learn then that the sea and other waters do not overpass their bounds and limits; but when it pleaseth God that they should overflow to chastise men, by deluges and floods: as it oftentimes cometh to pass through his just judgement. But it shallbe your office (ACHITOB) to speak of this point, discoursing upon the ebbing and flowing of the sea, whereupon me thinks the order of our speech doth require that we should entreat.   

Of the flowing and ebbing of the sea; and of the power that the moon hath over it and over all other inferior bodies. Chap. 58.  AMANA. 
IF we do not refer all things to the heavenly disposition of him, who hath framed and compassed all with his hand, and doth govern all by his prudence and sustaineth all with his power: it will be very difficult, yea impossible for us, to declare the causes and reasons of his works in an human discourse, which are of such authority, that they may put a good spirit out of all scruple and doubt: Yea even in the subject which we intent now to entreat of; to wit, the flowing, and ebbing of the sea. The searching out of which secret did so trouble a certain great Philosopher (some say, Aristotle) that being upon the shore of Euboea now called Negropont, only to search out and to behold the natural cause thereof, and not being able to inform himself sufficiently therein, it did so vex him, that chafing at nature himself, and against the water, he cast himself into the sea, saying to it (sith I cannot comprehend thee, yet shalt thou have the honour to comprehend me, and keep me within thy gulfs) and indeed he was here swallowed by the deep. And certes this ordinary ebbing and flowing of the ocean, according to which it goeth, cometh, spreadeth itself abroad, and then doth every day retire, without ever failing in the order thereof, must needs be a most wonderful thing. And that which is most admirable therein is, that the flowing and ebbing thereof do follow the course of the moon. 
Of the ebbing and flowing of the sea.  To which planet likewise is attributed with most apparent reason the cause of this flowing and ebbing; she being as the regent of the seas and waters, by the appointment of the sovereign creator, as is seen by experience and by the agreeableness of nature, which they have together. For we must note, that as the moon increaseth or waineth, so is it with the state of the flowing of the sea: And therefore although that it happen diversly, yet the principal cause of the motion thereof resideth in his planet. For between the two times that she riseth, which is in four and twenty hours, wherein she compasseth the whole earth, the sea doth twice flow, & doth as oftentimes ebb. And when the moon beginneth to mount in the east, then doth the flood rise, and the sea swell, till such time as this planet doth attain to our right meridian, which is in the mid-heaven, and that it begin to decline towards the west: at which time the water ebbeth. Yet nevertheless all those six hours, wherein the moon maketh her course towards the line of midnight opposite to our noone-line, the flood returneth and increaseth, till after it hath passed that line; and than it doth ebb again, till such time as the said regent thereof the moon return again above our horizon. It is most certain that the flood doth never return just at that very hour and instant, wherein it flowed the day before. But this doth proceed likewise from the course of the moon, which serving for these base and inferior things, and not rising every day at lemma self-same instant, she doth draw the course of the sea with her: in such sort, that the tide is more late, and of shorter continuance at one time then at another, and yet doth not the distance of time between the tides change one whit, for it endureth six hours in ebb, and so long time in flowing. But here we mean not all manner of hours, as our common hours are, according to the different situation of places, but we mean equal and equinoctial hours, by consideration whereof the ebbing and flowing of the sea will be found always of like time, as is abovesaid. Moreover from seven days to seven days, the flowing is found different by the same power of the moon: for it is but very small the first quarter thereof, and till it be half round. In the second quarter it always increaseth till full-moon: at which time the sea is at her greatest height. From thence forward the flood decreaseth: so that the third quarter it is in the same state wherein it was the first quarter. Nevertheless when the waning moon is half round, the flood beginneth to rise. But when she is in conjunction with the sun, the tide riseth as high as at full moon. And when the moon is high and septentrional, the tide is not so vehement as when she is meridional, because that being then more near to the earth, she doth the more exercise her power.  
But many have endeavoured in this matter to understand, 
Why the ocean doth differ in flowing from other seas.  why the flow of the Ocean sea do reach farther, than those of the other Mediterranean seas, wherein the ebbings and flow do not appear as in the Ocean. Which may be said to proceed, because that a thing which is entire hath more power, than any part which is separated. Also the high sea retaineth in itself more of the power of the Moon, which worketh upon it at ease and pleasure, beyond all comparison more forcibly then upon other seas which are narrower, and minister less means to this planet to exercise her rule therein. From whence it cometh to pass, that lakes and rivers do never flow. And for the Mediterranean seas they are enclosed about with the earth, as in an haven, though there be some places, or some arms of the same seas very broad. Some likewise are very much subject to the Moon, as the Adriatic gulf, wherein Venice is builded, which ebbeth and floweth twice every day like the Ocean. And it is to be noted, that such motions are better perceived on the shore and sea-coasts, then in the midst thereof: even as the pulse of the arteries is better known in the extremes of the body, then in the bulk thereof. 
Other causes of the flowing and ebbing of the sea.  Some also do render this cause of the flowing, and ebbing of the sea, to wit, that though the waters thereof be salt, yet were not this sufficient for their conservation, no more then of their neighbour the air, if they had not a continual motion. For we see, that sea-water doth presently corrupt being in a vessel, and not moved. Many also have noted that in every revolution or course of the moon, the tide resteth for three days long, to wit, the 7. 8. and 9 day thereof: and that when she is at full, all seas do purge themselves by scummes. Certainly it is wondrous to see what power this planet hath, not only over the waters, but also over the earth, and over all living creatures. 
Of the power of the moon over all creatures.  Which hath ministered occasion to many Philosophers to suppose, that the moon was that quickning-spirit, which nourisheth the earth; and that also by her inconstant course approaching divers ways to the inferior bodies, she produced divers effects, sometimes replenishing them, and sometimes leaving them void & empty. Whereof it cometh, that all fishes having scales and shells, do increase and decrease according to the course of the moon: and that all living creatures also, which have blood, do feel themselves refreshed, when she reneweth. It is likewise supposed, that the blood augmenteth or diminisheth in man, according as the moon increaseth, or waineth: yea that herbs and trees do partake of her power. Aristotle also doth note, that those creatures which are ready to die, do die only when the sea ebbeth. But in this matter, as in all things which do concern the ebbing and flowing of the Ocean, we must ever have recourse to the ordinance that the Eternal father of the univers hath established in all his creatures: according to which they persever in obedience to their creator, without transgressing one title of his laws: as we have a notable example in the sea, and in the waters, which contain themselves in such admirable sort (as in our former speech is declared) within their bounds and limits. 
A marvelous inundation of waters in the year 1530.  And if at any time they overflow (as whilom happened in Holland, where the water broke through the dams and banks, wherewith the country is bounded; swallowing up the coast-townes, with an incredible loss of men and riches: as also at the same time Tiber did so overflow at Rome, that it rose in the fields the height of a lance, ruinating in four and twenty hours many bridges and stately edifices, the endommagement whereof, comprising therein the movable goods lost, was esteemed to amount to the value of three millions of gold: there being above three thousand persons choked and drowned.) Such deluges, I say, do not come to pass (what natural causes soever the learned force themselves to render) without the express command and ordinance of God, who will after this sort use the water, to take vengeance upon those, whom he pleaseth to wash from off the face of the earth, as being unworthy to dwell longer thereupon. And so he himself hath prophesied unto us, saying: 
Luke. 21.  [There shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars, and upon the earth, trouble among the nations, with perplexity: the sea and waters shall roar.] Adding afterwards, [For the powers of heaven shall be shaken.] Moreover we may say, that although the celestial bodies have no more life, sense and understanding, than the earth and the sea: yet nevertheless they have as it were a secret feeling by nature of the majesty of God their creator, who causeth them to rise up against men for their rebellion and wickedness. Surely when we see them rise and stand up against men, to work them evil in stead of doing them good, contrary to the end of their first creation; we must consider of them, as if they envied and denied to serve men any more, which turn disloyal, ingrateful, and perverse towards him, from whom their total good proceedeth: As the sun did witness when it waxed dark at the death of our Redeemer, depriving those of his light, which were risen up against the eternal Son of God, that had created them. For it is certain, that the creatures do groan and travel altogether (as the scripture saith) till such time as jesus Christ shall come in judgement; 
Rom. 8. Acts. 3.  which is the day of the restitution and restoring of all things, foretold by the prophets. And which day being near, it is no marvel, if God do daily show his particular judgements upon men, to put them in mind of this general and universal judgement, whereto heaven, earth, the sea, and all creatures shall come together: and therefore also he giveth them so many signs of his wrath, by thunders, tempests, deluges, and inundations of water, as we have made mention. But let us proceed to contemplate his other works and great wonders, which abound every where, both in the earth, and in the sea, & in other terrestrial waters: by which very many commodities do redound to men through the providence of God. And first we will speak of the diversity of waters. Which (ARAM) I would have you to discourse of.   

Of salt, fresh, and warm waters; and of other diversities in them. Chapter 59  ARAM. 
ACcording to the nature of the most wonderful works of God, in all that, which he hath created, the marvels are innumerable, which may be considered in the sea, and in all the waters which proceed out of it, and return into it, without any increasing or diminishing in itself, as we have already heard. And if there were no other thing, but that the waters of the sea are always salt, and other waters are for the most part fresh, would not that be sufficient to teach us to acknowledge the great power, wisdom, and bounty of the creator, and how puissant he is in all his works? For though that all waters are of one nature, as making up one only element: yet doth he make them of divers qualities, according as he knoweth how to purify, distill and purge, or else to mingle and mix them, 
Of the divers qualities of water, and of the providence of God therein.  with his other creatures. Whereupon it falleth out, that we have not only salt waters in the sea, but that there are some found also in fountains, yea oftentimes very near to other springs of fresh water: Wherein the providence of God declareth itself to be very great. For if all waters were salt; men and beasts could not live, nor the earth fructify, and nourish the fruits thereof: because that living creatures cannot want fresh water, whether it be for their drink, or for their other necessary commodities: neither is salt water fit to water the earth, considering that salt makes it barren. On the other side, if all waters were fresh, where might men find salt enough to suffice them, for the necessary commodities of their life? For although that there be some salt-mines, and some salt-ground, as appeareth by the salt waters of fountains, which pass through such grounds: yet the best means to have good salt and in abundance, is by the waters, and chief by sea water. What may we say also of so many sorts of water, whereof some participate with Sulphur; some with alum; others with iron or brass, or with other metals or minerals, which do heat some of them in such sort, as men make natural baths of them, having divers virtues and powers, which serve for medicines in many kinds of diseases?  

Why the sea-water is salt.  Now the Philosophers do much strain themselves to declare the causes of so many marvelous effects. For some say that the sun, which is the greatest of all planets, drying up by his heat the moisture of the water, and burning and sucking up all the humidity of the earth, doth by this decoction cause the sea to become salt, because the force of the solary fire doth attract unto it the most fresh and subtle part of the water, making the more heavy and thick part that remaineth, to be salter and of more substance: whereof it cometh, that the water towards the sea bottom is fresher, then that which is above. Others allege three efficients, which both cause and continue the saltness: to wit, the heat of the sun, for the foresaid reasons; and also because it maketh the water to putrefy: then the continual agitation thereof by flowing and ebbing, which causeth that the sea neither resteth nor runneth a direct course: and thirdly the ordinary receiving of rain. For they say, that when salt resteth in the water, it descendeth downwards by reason of the weight thereof: and when the water runneth, it is purified by the earth: and that all rain-water, because it is heated by the sun, and doth putrefy through tardation and slowness, is somewhat brackish. But they are much more troubled when they entreat of fountains. For some say, that the sea yieldeth none but salt-waters, as is seen by many waters near it: And that those which are fresh, become so by a long and vehement course. Others maintain that they be engendered by the air. Now experience manifesteth, that their saltness is diminished by the length and continuance of the course of the water. For the farther that wells are from the sea, the more fresh they are: because the water doth more purge itself, by the earth over which it traverseth, leaving a part of the force thereof, and sometimes all of it, in the slime, and in the sand. And here we may note, that waters, 
Of fountains and wells, and why the water of them seemeth hotter in winter then in summer.  especially well waters, which do all come from some springs, do seem to be hotter in winter then in summer, although they do never change their nature: for this proceedeth of the air, which is cold in winter and hot in summer. Through the opposition then of these things one self same water seemeth to receive divers qualities: even as we see, that according to the disposition of our body, the quality of the air, which environeth us, is esteemed. For when we are hot, we do suppose that which we touch to be cold: and when we be cold, we esteem that which we touch to be otherwise. Wherefore we must judge even so of the inner parts of the earth, esteeming them to be simply neither hotter nor colder in one season more than in another, but only in respect of the air. Indeed water doth wax a little warm, when through the coldness of the air, the heat is constrained to retire itself downward in such sort as it cannot issue nor spread itself upon the earth: and therefore the snow which doth not lie long upon it, doth commonly make it more fertile; for it retaineth the heat in the bowels thereof. Moreover, the uppermost part of the earth, which the water may come to, is of a clammy slime of the nature of brimstone or of salt, or of metal: which also causeth that the exhalations enclosed in this part do heat the water. And therefore such waters are either odoriferous, or of a bad smell, or without any savour, of which qualities one may easily judge by the smell and taste. For some waters savour not only of lime, or of salt; but they do also boil, as in the baths near to Padua; 
Why some waters do boil.  yea such waters are very ordinary, so that there are few regions, but have some of them. But they are most common in Germany and in Italy. And the cause that they so boil is, either fire or putrefaction, or else natural or celestial heat. But for the celestial heat, it seemeth that it cannot be so great, especially in winter and in the night time, that it should heat the water very much. And for natural heat, it is never actual but in living creatures, because they have life and sense. Neither is putrefied heat so powerful, that it can make water to boil; neither is it very likely, that the substance of any thing may be engendered and corrupted at one instant. It resteth then, that the cause should rather be in the fire; considering also, that heat hath but little motion, except it attain to the height thereof, whereas otherwise it doth quench itself. And therefore it is that matter which burneth under the earth, that ministereth this puissant heat, which doth so warm the water. And we may moreover note, that all those waters which boil so, are naturally light, and have some medicinable faculty and property: And yet they are not to be so much accounted of, as that which is fit for common usage in men's affairs to preserve health. 
What water is best.  For good water hath neither colour, smell, nor savour, and is passing clear; and being drunk it abideth not long in the belly: such (they say) is the water of the river Euleus, which falleth from the mountain Zager by Susiana, whereof the kings of Persia did make provision in their expeditions and warlike voyages. For to the preservation of health, water is no less to be carefully chosen, 
divers causes of cold waters, and their tastes, colours, and smells.  than air. Now as warm waters are famous for the reasons heretofore delivered; so there are some waters also very much admired for their great coldness, whereof snow, marble, metals, cold air, sudden motion, and the great fall from aloft, (every one in his degree) may be the cause. Again, the savours or tastes of waters are very divers, and the principal cause thereof is heat. For sodden earth (which is of sundry sorts) giveth a taste to water, according to the quality thereof. And the like reason is concerning colours; for fine & thin clay doth cause the colour of waters: but thick clay tarrieth not in water, and therefore dieth it not. The same cause is also in the difference of smells. And always waters that are of a good smell, are profitable for creatures: but stinking waters cause diseases: for (as Philosophers say) contrary causes appertain to contrary things. Good water likewise is lightest, as that which fleeteth above other water, be it in rivers, springs, or wells. From whence it cometh that fresh water floateth upon sea water: which likewise being more massive and weighty, beareth more heavy burdens. And amongst fresh waters, the water of Rhodanus or Rosne (in France) swimmeth upon that of the lake of Geneva, passing over the midst thereof. Also many rare properties and great wonders are written concerning waters, with the causes of them: as that, 
Of a flood which ran not on the sabbath day.  which is reported by josephus, of a certain flood in judea near Syria, which ran every day, except upon the Sabbaoth day: which was reputed a matter religious, and as a miracle: although that this might happen and come to pass through a natural cause, if we will so argue, to wit, that no more water was gathered into this flood by orderly spaces, than was sufficient to run for six days and not for the seventh: in such sort as Physicians render a like cause concerning the renewings or fits, and ceasings of fevers. For the world is the great man, as man is the little world. But not stretching this discourse any farther, we will only note for conclusion thereof, that in the diversity of the kinds of waters, that which is gathered together in one place & is salt, 
Of the divers appellations of waters.  is called the sea; the fresh water so gathered together is called a lake; & if it move not at all, it is named a marish or fen: but if it be somewhat deep, it is a standing pool; and if it run, then is it a river: if it gather through rains, or by snow, then is it a torrent, or raine-floud: and if it spring, it is a fountain; which is ever the best water, and doth slowliest putrefy. For it is least moist, and is most concocted by the heavenly heat. Also the lightest water doth hardliest corrupt: for which cause it is most fit for the maintenance of man's life, as approaching nearest to the substance of the air, by which we breathe. We have said enough then concerning this matter. But me thinketh that our succeeding discourse requireth that we should entreat of those commodities, which men receive by waters through navigation, which (ACHITOB) shall be the subject of your discourse.   

Of the commodities which men reap of the waters, by navigation, and of the directions which seamen receive from heaven, and from the stars upon the sea. Chap. 60.  ACHITOB. 
AMongst such things as are worthy of consideration in the sea, and in other waters, we must not pass over in silence those goodly commodities and great profits which they bring unto men, by the means of navigations, and of the dealings and traffics which they exercise by them. For it is to be noted, that every land and country cannot be furnished with all commodities, because God hath so disposed thereof, that some abound in those things which othersome do greatly want & stand in need of. But by means of sailing by water, all that which can be required may be transported from one country to another, with very small trouble & charges: so that one nation may communicate those commodities with another, which the creator hath particularly bestowed on them all, each granting mutual help to the other by this means. Wherein surely we may acknowledge the providence of God to be very great & manifold. 
Of the providence of God in distribution of his gifts.  For first the Lord hath disposed of his creatures, and distributed his treasures according to the diversity of lands and countries, even in such manner as he divideth his gifts and graces amongst men. For he bestoweth not all either upon one or upon two, or upon three, or upon any other certain number of them: And therefore there never hath been, nor shall be any one, which either could or may surpass all others so much, that he may have no need of another, or that hath sufficient for himself. For if one man possessed all, he would think himself to be no more a man, but a God rather, and would therefore contemn all others. Moreover it is most certain, that if every one were so well furnished with all things, that they might all surpass one another, there would be no human society. For one would make no account of another: but being all puffed up with pride (whereto they are naturally inclined) there would arise a thousand quarrels and dissensions amongst them, as we ordinarily see to happen amongst the proud, mighty, puissant and rich. For seeing that charity, which should dwell amongst men, can take no place; how could they be united and allied together in amity, if they were not constrained thereto through necessity? and if it be a difficult matter to conjoin and maintain them in peace and mutual good will, what need soever they have one of another, one may easily judge what would ensue, if they had not necessity for their mistress to this effect, which causeth them to do in spite of all their abilities, that which she cannot obtain of them, but by force. Again how could men exercise the works of charity amongst themselves, (which works are very much commended unto them by God, to be done towards their neighbours) if every one could at his pleasure excel his companion? As than God hath placed and disposed sundry members in one body, and yet hath not appointed them lemma self-same office, but to every one his own: so hath it pleased him to divide and distribute his goodness, gifts, and graces amongst men, to the end that they may one serve another, as members of one and the same body, which can not consist without the reciprocal help of all. So likewise hath he established the sundry regions of the earth, enriching every one of them with certain particular commodities, which do often constrain men to help and secure one another, and to live in peace: without which, they would like mad beasts overrun and destroy each other, as we (wretches) do find true, especially in time of war. But we may well note upon this point, that although the most mighty do by their hate, enmities, dissensions, revengements and wars, contend oftentimes with all their power, to stop and hinder the traffic, dealings, and transportations of merchandise from one country, and out of one place to another, especially of food and victuals; yet whatsoever they may or can do (be they kings, princes or Emperors) they cannot for all that make such a stop, 
That nothing can stop the intercourse of men.  but that they will always pass and scape by some means, maugre all their powers. Wherein we must acknowledge, that seeing God hath ordained, that those which bear his image, should have communication one with another, for the causes aforesaid, and that chief by the aid of navigation: it is a great presumption in mighty men to oppose themselves against the order of the Omnipotent, and against that communion of benefits, which he will have to be maintained amongst men. Whom he can constrain to observe his ordinances, even through their own covetousness, when their charity faileth, making them to despise all dangers, that they may supply where need is, though they be forbidden upon pain of death. For such restraint by commandment is so far from hindering their covetousness, that it doth more inflame it, because they expect greater gain, then if there were mutual liberty, and therefore they cause more ware secretly to pass, and by that means they put all to hazard: yea they would rather open a way under ground (like moles) or else would fly in the air (like birds) then leave such trading: so wonderful is God in all his works, and in the government of all nature. For when he pleaseth, he serveth his own turn with the affections and evil works of men, yea drawing good out of their evil, even against their own wills. And therefore we may very well affirm, that seeing God will have men traffic together; it cannot choose, howsoever they enterprise to the contrary, but that this order must be continued. For this cause likewise it was not the will of the creator, that the waters should so gather themselves into one place, that they might not run through the earth: but he ordained, that out of the great Ocean (which is like the great body of the waters, and like the womb, out of which they do all first spring, and wherein they are engendered, and whereby they are repaired for ever) there should issue divers arms and members, by means whereof we have the Mediterranean seas, lakes, floods, rivers and brooks. So also in this distribution, and by the means of navigation, God hath given us many other means; to the end we might behold with our eyes, many testimonies of his providence engraven in every part of the vniuers, by the disposition of the works of his almighty hand, as they who sail upon the waters are constrained to acknowledge. 
Of the direction that mariners have by the stars.  For as he hath appointed the watery element, to serve men to navigate therein; so hath he established the heaven, & ordained the stars enchased therein, to direct them in the midst of the great gulfs & deeps of the sea. For when the ships are entered very far into it, they that be therein do clean lose the sight of land; so that they cannot judge by the consideration thereof, in what place they are, nor upon what side, neither to what place they may bend their course to find a convenient port, but they must take their directions from heaven.  
And for this cause also, though that the heaven be in perpetual motion, and that all the planets and stars do follow it, rising and setting in such sort, as they do not always appear to men: yet there are some of another condition. For near to the place, which Astronomers take for the pole, there are certain stars which have their motion and course so disposed, that they are always seen at sea, being never hidden like the rest: and among these that is one, which is called the pole-star, which is never seen to remove (except a very little) out of one place: so that it seemeth the whole heaven turneth about this star: As we also maintain, that it hath the like place correspondent thereto directly over against it in the other part of heaven, with a like appellation of name (as we have heretofore declared in our discourses concerning the celestial bodies) excepting the difference, which is put between these two poles, taken from their opposite situation in heaven, and from the stars, which are next unto them; which also have their course and motion like the rest: but do only differ in this, that rising and setting are not attributed unto them, because they may be always seen, when the spheres are discerned. For when the sky is covered with clouds, mariners do find themselves very much hindered and troubled. For than they prove that which job saith concerning the works of God, to wit, 
job. 9  that he commandeth the sun, and it riseth not, and he closeth up the stars, as under a signet. And that he maketh the star Arcturus, Orion, and Pleyades, and the Climates of the south, doing great things and unsearchable, yea marvelous things without number. Whereupon we may note, that here is especial mention made of the septentrional stars, as well because that they are more seen than the rest, as also because it is their property to bring and to procure rain and tempests (if we may credit Astrologers) which cause that the heaven cannot be seen. 
Of Charles hi● wain.  And because that some of these stars are so disposed, that they seem to represent the figure of a chariot with four wheels, and they are very much glistering above others, they are commonly called by the name of Charles-wain: because also they have three other very bright stars near to them, placed in such order as if they were cart-horses or oxen. Indeed some have called them the Bear, seeing them so conjoined together, taking the four quarters apart as if they were the four quarters of a Bear, and the other three as the tail thereof. There are some also, who have named them the Dragon or Serpent, because that being considered together they might seem to represent some such form. But howsoever, it is certain that pilots of galleys and ships do direct and guide themselves chief by these northern stars, as being most seen, and best known by men, and because they do almost always remain in one place, like the pole, or else do move so little, that they are never out of sight, especially that constellation which is properly designed by name of the Bear, & is called the greater Bear in comparison of a less called the lesser Bear. And for which cause also the pole, which is in this region and part of heaven is called Arctic, which is to say, of the Bear: for (Arctos) in Greeke signifieth a Bear. Now hereby we farther learn, that it is very requisite for mariners, and chief for masters and governors of galleys and ships, to be Astronomers, at leastwise so much as to know the foresaid stars, and to know how to judge of the elevation of the pole, and of the degrees, and the distances of every land and country, according to the elevation. For it is by it, that not only mariners, but Geometricians and Geographers also do take their measures, and dimensions to part and measure out the earth. But we have stayed long enough in this matter, now we will consider how God hath divided and limited out this terrestrial globe, and the sundry countries and regions that are therein, by the sea and separation of the water: as (ASER) you can discourse unto us.   

Of the division of lands and countries amongst men by the waters; and of the limits which are appointed them for the bounds of their habitations. Chap. 61.  ASER. 
STrabo a man as well seen in good letters as any other that hath written of Geographie, saith; That the earth is environed about by the Ocean: and therefore he parteth it into four very great gulfs: 
Division of the Ocean into four gulfs.  the first whereof turneth towards the north, & is called the Caspian or Hyrcanian sea: the second and third is that of Arabia, and the gulf of Ormuz or the Persian sea, turning towards the south: and the fourth being greatest of all the rest is that whereinto the Ocean entereth at the straight of Gibraltar, which some call the pillars of Hercules; which gulf is called by the name of the Mediterran or Middle-earth-sea, because it is compassed round about with land. And the same Mediterran sea runneth, enlarging itself, & making many bays & gulfs, sometimes washing the coast of Europe, and sometimes that of Africa, and so it extendeth towards the east, and receiveth divers names according to the places through which it passeth. For the first coast by which it runneth is called Mauritania Tingitana, which is that of Tremissen; 
Of the mediterranean seas.  then doth it take the name of Mauritania Caesariensis, towards Algiers, and Tunis; then is it named the Africke-sea towards Tripoli in Barbary; then passing the quick sands it is the Lybian sea; and entering upon the Marmarica and Cyrenaica, it glideth with that name till it water Egypt, and then it is said to be the Egyptian sea. And all this coast is from the east to the west, till you arrive at the gulf of Larissa beyond Damiata, and at the uttermost of the deserts of the southeast, where Asia and Africa do separate. From which port being in Palestina, you must turn north and north-east, as if you would take your course by the west: and then this sea which was called the Syriack-sea because of all Syria to Tripoli, changeth name, and is called the Egean sea, till you come to Galli-polis, or Hellespont, making all this way divers bay and gulfs: and under this name it coasteth Thracia, and the lands which abutte upon Macedonia, and Morea, till you come to Albania, and there it beginneth to be called the Adriatic sea: then doubling towards the south, it floweth by the country of Calabria to the town of Rhegium, under the name of the jonick sea, and passing between Sicily and Italy, in stead of the old name Charybdis, it is called the Tyrrhene sea, and from thence it runneth towards the coast of Genoa, by name of the Ligustick sea, which divideth and separateth France from Italy, being nominated the French sea: then to end the course, and finish the compass, it approacheth the isles of Maiorca & Minorca, being called the Balearick sea. And proceeding farther, it runneth to the straight of Barbary, bearing name the Iberian sea, where it returneth to the first point, from whence we said it first parted, to wit, at the straight of Gibraltar, which is the entrance of one sea into another.  
Now in this brief discourse, upon which Cosmogrophers have written many great volumes, we have very goodly matter to consider upon, not without much wonder of the providence of God; in that it hath pleased him to divide, part, and limit out the earth, 
Things to be considered of, by the division of lands by the waters. Acts. 17.  and the sundry countries and nations that are therein, by the sea, and by the bosoms, gulfs, and arms thereof. For as it is written [God hath made of one blood all mankind, to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath assigned the times which were ordained before, and the bounds of their habitation.] Which is as much to say, that as men have not made nor created themselves, but have been created by the Eternal; so are they borne where he pleaseth, having assigned them a place upon the earth, not at their choice but at his pleasure.  
And therefore also he establisheth their habitation, or changeth it, according to his good will, either keeping them within the country in which they were borne, or else driving them out, and bringing them into strange lands, as we have very evident examples throughout all the holy History, where mention is made of the children of Israel. For though the Scripture doth deliver us no testimony of the providence of God so special towards other nations, as it assureth us to have been towards the people of Israel: yet we must nevertheless believe, that there is not any one man that dwelleth upon the earth, to whom the Lord hath not by his providence assigned the place of his habitation: But he would give an example and more certainty in his people, of that which he ordinarily doth towards all nations, although he doth it not so openly, nor with so great favour and grace, as is declared in those whom he accounteth for his children. 
Dan. 2.  And therefore the prophet saith, [That it is God, who changeth the times and seasons, he taketh away kings, he setteth up kings: because he giveth and taketh away kingdoms, and he augmenteth, cutteth off, and altereth the limits of them as he pleaseth.] Whereby we also learn, that we must not attribute either to the prudence and wisdom of any one, or yet to the force and power, or to the weapons or armies of men, the changes which we daily see in the state of the most mighty: but to the only ordinance and disposition of God, by which such alterations come to pass, according as the sovereign judge knoweth to be expedient and just for the chastisement and punishing of men by one another, or else to show himself benign and favourable towards them. For which cause the scripture saith, that the Lord using as his instrument Senacherib the tyrant of Assyria to chastise many people and nations; 
Isay 10.  he calleth him the rod and scourge of his wrath: and doth greatly reprehend him by Isay, for that he attributed to himself the glory of those victories which he had given him, not because of his virtues (considering he was a fierce and cruel king) but because God would use him against those who deserved to be chastised by the hands of such a tyrant and murderer. If then we consider (as behoveth us) upon that which we have here summarily touched, we shall find therein excellent doctrine for all kings, princes, and people, and for all men, as well in general, as in particular: to the end to induce them, 
That every one must contain himself within the limits of his habitation.  that they may contain themselves within the enclosure of those confines wherein God hath placed them. For as he is cursed in the law, which passeth the bounds of his neighbours possession; so must we not doubt, but that they are subject to the same curse, who cannot contain themselves within the bounds of those countries, 
Deut. 27.  in which God hath confined them, bestowing upon them power, signories, and habitation therein. For from whence proceed the greatest dissensions and cruelest wars, but from the ambition and avarice of men, which will one usurp above another, that which appertaineth not unto them, and by such means do outpass their limits? whereas if every one would content himself with that part and portion of land, which the creator thereof hath bestowed upon him, who doubteth, but that men should live in much more peace? As than God through his providence would constrain them by necessity and need which they have one of another, to traffic and communicate together in liberty and mutual security, by that means to receive out of one country into another those things which fail therein, and abound elsewhere, and for the causes by us heretofore delivered: so it hath pleased him to set mighty and strong bounds and limits against their ambition and avarice, especially of kings, princes, and great men. For we see how he hath divided and separated one country from another, and the divers regions and kingdoms of the earth not only by means of seas, lakes, and great rivers, but also by craggy, high, and unpassable mountains, which (as the kingly prophet witnesseth) he hath established by his power, 
Psal. 65.  that by this means men might be confined within the bounds of the habitation assigned by the Eternal to every people, in such sort as he hath enclosed the waters within their places, to the course which he hath ordained them, 
Against the ambition, and avarice of men.  having bounded them with hills and rocks. And yet there are no bounds so difficult to pass, which may bridle and restrain the ambition and insatiable desire of men within any limits, but that they will pass over the deepest, the longest, the amplest, and broadest waters, and the highest and steepest mountains in the world: so that there are no places so inaccessible, through which they will not cut a passage, one to overrun another by great outrage and violence. Wherein surely they evidently declare, that they are much more furious than the sea, how outrageous and rough soever it be; seeing they can in no wise contain themselves within their limits, as the waters do: which also maketh them more unreasonable than brute beasts. For although there be many unruly and furious horses in one stable, yet each of them will commonly be stayed with an halter made but of a little chord or leather, and will be kept by a little bar of wood, from striking & running over one another, so that one only stable will serve them all. But men do to the contrary show themselves to be such furious and contentious beasts, that the whole world cannot suffice them. For there is neither river, sea, lake, nor mountain, which can be a bar sufficient to withhold them from forcing and ravaging one another, destroying themselves by horrible massacres, and cruel wars. Which no doubt cometh unto them especially through want of acknowledging and considering upon the providence of God, by which he hath appointed bounds to their habitation, ambition, and avarice, as we have said, and for that they will not contain themselves within them, obeying the ordinance of their creator. But we have said enough concerning this subject. Let us now discourse upon those commodities which come to men and to all creatures, by the course of the waters through the earth. Which (AMANA) shall be the substance of your speech.   

Of the commodities which are incident to men, and to all creatures, by the course of the waters through the earth. Chap. 62.  AMANA. 
IF men do but slenderly acknowledge the providence of God in the limits of their habitation which he hath appointed, as well by means of mountains as by waters (as we have heard in the precedent speech:) they do also make but small stay in the consideration of those great commodities, which he giveth and sendeth continually to them by means of them, & of all the earth. For as he watereth this fruitful mother by dew & rain from heaven, as hath been heretofore expressed: so doth he moisten it by means of fountains, floods and rivers, which do run through it. Whereupon we must note, that the life of all corporal creatures doth principally consist in heat, and that this heat cannot be preserved and maintained without moisture, whereby it is nourished: even as the flame of the snuff, or match of a candle or lamp is nourished and maintained by the fat and humour which is therein. Therefore as God hath placed the sun in heaven like a great fountain of heat, and a great furnace of fire for to be distributed and disposed into all parts of the world: so hath he established the sea here below in the earth, as a great and perpetual fountain convenient for the nourishment and conservation of this heat, which is communicated to the earth, and to all the creatures that are therein. And therefore also this sea spreadeth itself into divers places, by the means which have been declared: so that the courses of the waters in the earth are like the veins in a man's body. 
Goodly similitudes of the course of the waters, and of the veins, which are in the body.  For even as the sovereign Creator hath placed the liver in the bodies of living creatures, which is as the fountain of blood needful for all the body to give life thereto: and then hath made veins like rivers to disperse and distribute this blood to every member, disposing them in such sort, as there is not any part but doth by means of these veins receive as much blood, as is needful for the nourishment and preservation of the life thereof: so likewise he hath ordained here below in earth, the sea and springs of waters, which he afterwards disposeth into every place by means of fountains, floods and rivers, who are as the veins through which the water, that is as the blood of the earth, is conveyed and communicated, that it may be moistened to nourish all manner of fruits, which God hath commanded it to bear for the nurture both of men and beasts. Wherefore as in one body there are many veins, some greater, larger, and longer; and some lesser, narrower, and shorter, which nevertheless do all answer to one self same source and fountain, and then do divide themselves into sundry branches: so the earth hath her floods, rivers and streams, some great, others small, which have all their common springs, and do oftentimes join themselves together, or divide themselves into divers branches and arms, in such sort as the earth is moistened by them, so much as is needful in every part thereof. Moreover, as it is watered to nourish the fruits; so men and other living creatures do thereby receive their beverage necessary for the preservation of their life.  

Of pleasure mixed with profit in the works of God.  But amongst all these things we are to consider, that God the most-good hath not only provided by means of them for the necessities of his creatures, but even for their honest pleasures, so that it hath pleased him to conjoin an excellent beauty with profit and utility. For how goodly a thing is it to behold the fruitful islands in midst of the sea, the clear and sweet bubbling springs, and gentle rivers and floods issuing out of rocks and caves of the earth, which tumble down the mountains, flow through the valleys, and glide along the plains, through forests, fields and meadows, being decked with many sundry kinds of branched trees, that are planted aside from inhabitants; in midst of which, infinite little birds fly up and down tuning their voices to sing in sweet melody, and natural music? What unspeakable pleasure befalleth to all creatures, especially to man, to live amongst such abounding beauties? And who will not also admire the great variety which is in the disposition and distinction that we behold in the earth, by the mountains, rocks, valleys, plains, fields, vineyards, meadows, woods and forests: especially if we consider the fruits and profits, which redound to men thereby, besides the gallant diversity of infinite delectable pastures beawtified in all sorts? For there is not one foot of earth, which may not be said to serve to some good use, no not in most desert places. Some places are fit for fields, and champion grounds; others for pastures; some for vineyards; other for fruitful orchards; and others for high and well grown trees fit for building timber, or for firewood, to the end that men may help themselves therewith in all their needful uses for firing. Some places also are particularly commodious for cattle to graze in, by which great gain and pleasure is received. And for deserts, mountains and forests, they are the proper retiring places for wild beasts, by which likewise men do not only receive profit, but very great delectation also, and healthful exercise in hunting of them: and which is more, such places are very commodious for household cattle, which do there feed in every place to marvelous profit. But let us note, that all these properties and profits should not be found in the earth, if it were not conjoined with the water by the course thereof through every part of it. Which water likewise doth cause many and unspeakable profits, that redound to men by fish, which remain not only in the sea, but also in lakes, ponds and rivers, being of so sundry kinds and natures, that it is not possible to number them. In which if the providence of God be most admirable, 
Commodities that the waters do bring in fishes, and what is to be admired therein.  it is especially to be observed in the sea. For how many sorts of fishes are there, great, little, and of mean quantity; and how many sundry forms, and what diversity of Nature? I believe verily, that whosoever should undertake to number them, by every kind, and particularly, should be almost as much troubled, as if he would purpose to empty the Ocean. But though there be not any little creature in the sea, wherein God doth not declare himself, and show himself great and admirable; yet doth he chief manifest himself so to be in two things. The first is in the hugeness and power of the great fishes which he hath created, as whales and such like, which seem to be rather sea-monsters than fishes, there being no beast in all the earth so great and strong: for there are some that seem a far off to be islands or mountains, rather than fishes. And the other most wonderful thing is, that the Creator hath set such a correspondency in many points betwixt the fishes and beasts of the earth, that it seemeth he would represent a great part of the one by the other. So we see also that many names of earthly beasts are given to many fishes, because of the similitude and likeness, which they have together in figure and in nature: yea it seemeth that God would represent in the fishes of the sea, almost all the other creatures which are in the rest of the world. For there are some which be called Stars, because they are like that shape, according to which men commonly paint the stars. Moreover, how many are there which bear the shape of earthly creatures, yea of many instruments made by men? 
Of the fish called the cock.  For amongst others, there is a fish called (the Cock) which is also named by fishers in some countries, the joiner, because it hath almost as much diversity of bones and gristles, as a joiner hath of tools; the form of which they also represent. But if we speak of the sundry fashions of fishes, and of their colours, scales, heads, skins & fins, and of their understanding, industry and chase, and of their shells and abiding places, and of their natures and infinite properties; who should not have just cause to wonder? Moreover, have not men forged many fashions of weapons, the form of which they have taken from divers fishes? What shall we also say of the fins and little wings which God hath given them, to direct them, and to hold them up in the sea, and in other waters, like birds in the air, and as ships are rowed and guided by oars, and the rudder? Seemeth it not that God hath created them like watery birds, to whom he hath given wings agreeable to the element for to sustain themselves with, and fit for their nature, as he hath done to the fowls of the air? 
Genes. 1.  We also read in Genesis, that the Lord did make in one day the birds and fishes, and every flying thing. For as the air hath more agreement with the water (than with the earth) and approacheth nearer to the nature thereof; so is there more answerableness between the creatures which live & converse in these two elements, then is between them & the beasts of the earth: And therefore we see that the seed of both kinds is multiplied by their eggs. And we must also note, that forasmuch as men can receive no great fruit, nor much profit by fish, except in their victuals, or in some medicine or such like use, which is not so common as ordinary nourishment, God by his providence & blessing hath made them so fruitful, that they multiply and increase woondrously: as experience doth evidently manifest unto us, by the great number of fry or spawn that is found in one only fish. Which fertility we must believe to proceed from the power, which the Almighty bestowed upon them: as also upon all his creatures, when he said unto them, [Bring forth fruit, and multiply, and fill the waters in the sea, and let the foul multiply in the earth.] A thing which we must well consider upon, to the end that we may refer to this blessing of God all those commodities which we daily receive, either from those creatures, or from the earth itself, or from the other elements, and that we must render him continual thanks and praises therefore. For he hath in no less wise blessed all his creatures, than the fishes and the birds, when by his word he gave their nature to them, in which he created them, and did presently after command them to bring forth fruit according unto that nature. To the end then that we may be the more induced to glorify so great a workman, for the excellency of his works, which shineth in all creatures, let us now entreat of some fishes most accounted of by those who have written of their nature, and let us consider of their singularities and wonders, so much only as the scope of our discourse will permit us, in such sort as we have declared in our antecedent speeches. To you then (ARAM) I refer the relation concerning this matter.   

Of divers kinds of fishes: namely of the whale, of the dolphin, of the sea-calf, and others. Chapter 63.  ARAM. 
IT is affirmed by all the learned, who have diligently searched out the secrets of nature, that the water bringeth forth both more and greater creatures, than the earth doth, because of the abundance of moisture that is therein. And the sea is so ample, and so fit to give nourishment, and a gentle and fertile increase of all things, by means of that generating seed which it attracteth from heaven, and the aid of nature ordained by the creator (which hath this property, to produce always something that seemeth new) that it is no marvel if there be found incredible and monstrous things in the water. For the seeds of all forms do so interlace and mix themselves therein, as well by the winds, as by the agitation of the waves, that one may well say (as is said commonly) that there is nothing on earth, which is not in the sea: yea, 
The admirable property of nature.  and that there are many things in it, which cannot be found either in the air, or on the earth. Now great fishes are chief resident under the Torrid zone, because that in the Ocean heat and moisture serve for augmentation, 
Of the whale.  as saltness doth for conservation. And in this number is the whale, of which the ancients write, and whom some moderns call Gibbar (because that the common whale, which some take for the Musculus of Aristotle doth not answer to the description of this) which is of incredible hugeness. For if we will believe histories, there have been some seen of four acres of ground in length. 
Plin. lib. 9 hist. nat.  They make an horrible cry, and spout out of two holes (of a cubit long, which they have near to their nostrils) so much water, that they oftentimes drown ships therewith. And of their crests men make fair rods, which seem to be of bone, or of horn, black in colour, and like to the horns of a buff, so flexible, that they can hardly be broken, & they do shine in the sun, as if they were gilded. Of every piece of his crest is a rod made, so that in one crest there are many rods. Moreover the bone of his whole head is so great, that one might make a ship thereof.  

Of the dolphin.  And as this kind of fish is the heaviest and mightiest of all, so the dolphin is the swiftest and most ingenious not only of all watery creatures, but of those of the earth, and of the air. For they swim faster than a bird can fly. And therefore if this fish were not lowe-mouthed, there were no fish could scape him. But nature providing therefore, in putting his mouth under his belly, hath so restrained him, that he can catch nothing but backwards: whereby the great swiftness of such fishes doth evidently appear. Wherefore when the dolphin, pressed with hunger, pursueth any fish to the bottom, and that he hath stayed long there, always holding wind, when he riseth he leaps above water with incredible quickness and force, to take breath again. Some have marked in this kind of fish, that they have their tongue movable, contrary to the nature of all other water-creatures. Their voice is as when one waileth. Their back is bowed, and bendeth outwards: they are very loving to men, and like well of music: and indeed they do not shun men, as other fishes do; but come right before ships, making a thousand leaps and frisks before them. Sometimes also as if they had challenged the mariners to try who should go speediest, they take their course along with the ships, and do outstrip them, how good wind soever they have.  

Of the seacalf.  Amongst sea-fish also the sea-calf is very admirable. For he hath udders and hair, and calueth upon the earth as sheep bring forth, and is delivered of the second burden presently after her young ones. He snorts mightily when he sleepeth near to the shore; he bleats and bellows like a calf, and for that cause beareth the same name. The sins wherewith he swimmeth, serve for feet on ground to go upon. His hide (whereof the Islanders make girdles) hath a marvelous property, for the hair which is thereupon riseth when the sea increaseth, & falleth when it diminisheth. Some hold also that this creature is very capable of discipline, easily learning that which is showed him: and that he saluteth people by his looks, and with a certain noise and shaking that he makes.  
Now let us speak of the tortoise which is of a very strange form. There are found of them in the coast of India so great, 
Of Tortoises.  that one shell only is sufficient to cover a good pretty shed. And in the country of the Chelonophagi, there are some isles, where they ordinarily use tortoise shells in stead of boats. For we must note that there be three sorts of Tortoises: the terrestrial, which breedeth in forests: marish ones, which breed in fens: and watery ones, which breed in the sea. Those then of this last sort have instead of feet so many broad gristles: they have no teeth, but the nibbe of their beak is passing sharp: and their underchappe doth close as justly within their upper chap, as a box doth with the lid of it. Being in the sea, they live upon shell fishes, for their mouth is so strong and hard, that they crush them, yea even stones in pieces: yet when they come on land, they never live but upon herbs. They lay eggs like birds; so that sometimes one may find an hundred together. And they never hatch them in the water, but putting them into an hole which they make in the ground, and covering them well, they smooth with their shells underneath the place wherein they are, and hatch in the night time for a whole year long.  
Also amongst the fishes which are famous for their strange operative power, is the Torpedo or crampfish: 
Of the cramp-fish.  which is a kind of hedgehog, & hath many bristles, the touch of whom be nummeth the fisher's hands, by some natural and secret virtue. And there be many kinds of these fishes, who have all of them their shell covered with bristles very thick, which bristles they use in stead of feet to stay themselves upon, when they move and stir from one place to another. Their head and mouth is the lowest part of them, and towards the ground. And amongst the rest, there is one, not of the kind of this bristled crampfish, but a shell fish, which the Latins call (Remora) because it hath such power that if it take hold of the bottom of ships, it stayeth them. Yet we cannot read that any such thing hath been seen since the time of Caius Caligula the emperor: whom Historiographers report to have been one time stayed in his ship by this fish to his great endommagement.  

Of the Triton.  But the most wonderful of all fishes is the Triton, (otherwise called the sea Bug) for he hath hair upon his head, the nose of a man, a broad mouth, and the teeth of a wild beast. His hands, fingers, and nails, are somewhat like those of a man. And the rest of his body is covered with a thin shell, with a tail under his belly in stead of feet like a dolphin. 
Hist. nat. lib. 9  Pliny reporteth that in the time of the emperor Tiberius the people of Lisbon sent ambassadors only to advertise him, that in the coast of their sea, there was a Triton discovered, blowing of an horn in a cave.  

Of the Nereids.  The Nereids also (otherwise called Sirens or Mermaids) do very near approach to human form, saving that they be rough and full of shells in every part of their body. There are some also who testify that they have seen a seaman, having the entire form of a man. Finally it is a thing that seemeth altogether incredible that the diversity of fishes, (or rather sea-monsters) should be such as they affirm, who have written thereof. But we may well believe, that the facility of generation and of life in the waters, 
Of the cause of innumerable forms of fishes.  is cause of so many strange shapes. For heat and moisture consist together in generation, and nourishment maintaineth life: and in the sea heat and fat moisture, and nutriment do abound. It is also to be noted, that by reason of motion, the pestilence never cometh into the water, (as into the air) for the sea is ever moved, and the air is often still. For which cause all kinds of creatures may easily be preserved in the sea, but not so in the air. Again, fishes move themselves in the sea easily, and without labour: which the beasts of the earth do not, who therefore are constrained to be hungry, or necessarily to be consumed by too much labour and travail. Moreover the sea freezeth not, neither yet is too hot (like the earth, and like other waters) except it be (and that very seldom) in the superficies thereof, which is touched by the air. Therefore through so many commodities, and by the mixture of creatures of divers kinds, many monsters are engendered in the sea, so that sometimes when it ariseth, by means of the flowing thereof, one may find upon the shore of the western Ocean to the number of three hundred kinds of monstrous fishes. But although it seemeth that nature would express in fishes the forms of all terrestrial creatures, & put in them some resemblance of shape; yet in the hinder part all fishes are (except some few sea-monsters) of a peculiar form agreeable to their nature, and do only resemble other creatures in the forepart. For as the rudder directeth and governeth a ship in the stern, so the tail of a fish doth guide it in swimming. And for this cause the tails of all fishes almost are forked. But this is most certain that their sorts and kinds surmount the kinds of other creatures in multitude, in greatness, in force, and in variety of shapes. But our intent is not here to number them as we have said: for so we should find matter enough to make a great volume, as others have done. Wherefore to finish this argument, and this days speech, see (ACHITOB) if by our discourses of the sea & of the waters, and of the living creatures which are engendered & do live in them, you can deliver any instruction, which may be answerable to that end, for which we especially continue our treatise concerning this great vniuers.   

Of the image that we have of the state of this world, and of men, in the sea and in the fishes thereof. Chap. 64.  ACHITOB. 
LEt us not doubt (companions) but that we have a goodly image in this days discourse of the state of this world, and of all man's life. For first, 
That the world is like a sea.  what is this world but a sea, wherein we navigate and are in continual danger? Nay is the sea itself so variable, so inconstant, and so outrageous? For if we have never so little respite, peace and rest, (like as when the sea is calm, and quiet) presently there arise such violent whirlwinds, storms and furious tempests, as it seemeth oftentimes that heaven, earth, and all the elements conspire and run together to work nor ruin. Yea when this wicked world showeth us fairest countenance, & becometh most calm and gentle, and that it feedeth us with the fattest morsels; then is it most false unto us, and then are we in greatest danger. For when we think ourselves most sure therein, then are we suddenly tossed and carried away, as with violent waves and horrible whire-winds, into the lowest gulfs and deeps of the earth. Moreover as the huge monsters of the sea, and the greatest and strongest fishes do eat up and devour the smallest and weakest; and as the craftiest entrap the simplest, and pray upon them: even so is it with the men of this world. For the mightiest tyrants and the richest, strongest, and greatest rovers, thieves, and robbers do pill, and take away the substance of the least and feeblest, and do consume and devour them. And they which cannot do so by force, have recourse to sleights, deceits and treasons, by which they surprise the simple and meek. And therefore also as the holy Ghost compareth in the Scripture tyrants, 
Soph. 3. Dan. 7. Ezech. 22. Psal. 74. Luk. 13.  rovers, thieves, and murderers, to wolves, bears, lions, and such like beasts: and the crafty and deceitful, to foxes, dragons, and serpents, who do by subtlety and guile that which they cannot perform by power and force: so doth he compare them to huge whales, and to the great fishes of the sea. So because Nilus (a renowned river, whereof we have already spoken) passeth through the land of Egypt, and runneth into the sea, by seven mouths or arms; Isay calleth Pharaoh the king and tyrant of that country, 
Isay. 27.  (Leviathan, or Whale, which God did strike with his strong hand, and his mighty arm, overwhelming him in the red sea.) It is also said for the like consideration in the Psalms [Thou brakest the heads of dragons in the waters. 
Psal. 74.  Thou brakest the head of Leviathan in pieces, and gavest him for meat to the people in the wilderness. 
Abac. 1. ] And the prophet Abacuc doth likewise compare the king and tyrant of Babylon to a great fisher who casteth his nets into the sea, and causeth the fishes to come into them, and so he taketh them.  
But here we are to note, that although there be some kinds of beasts who eat one another: yet are they not all of this nature. For there are but certain of them that live so upon pray and rapine. And amongst them that so live, there are but very few that eat beasts of their own kind, except great famine constrain them thereto: Yea hunger doth invite them that live by pray, to chase and devour others, rather than their own kind. For it is necessity and want of sustenance that driveth them thereto. And though especially fishes do least spare their own kind, yet do they not eat one another, except when hunger constraineth them thereto to preserve their life. 
How men are more cruel than beasts.  But men (most wretched surely) have not all these causes to move them against their own kind, against their own flesh and blood, as it is ordinarily seen that they are more cruelly and more fiercely bend one against another, than any bruit beasts: but contrariwise they should be much better furnished in all their necessities, and should live much more at their ease, if they could maintain good peace and unity one with another. Wherefore in that they do otherwise, it is easy to judge how much their nature is corrupted & perverse, except they be regenerated by the spirit of God. For there is no bond of nature whatsoever, no not that which is kept amongst the brutest beasts (as of the female towards her young ones, or of the male towards the female, and such like) which men do not shamefully break and violate. But we must herein acknowledge a terrible judgement & fury of God against them, because of their sin, which hath so perverted and infected the first original nature of the stock of mankind. For when he giveth strength and power to the one for to torment and destroy the other, yea to most cruel tyrants and bloody murderers, who make less account of men then of beasts; we must learn this doctrine, that herein the just ordinance of the Almighty is very evident, by which he punisheth the wicked by the wicked, 
Good doctrine touching the tyranny of the wicked.  & taketh revenge upon his enemies even by his enemies themselves, as he hath threatened them in his law. And therefore there is less marvel herein, then that God suffereth the small fishes to be eaten by great ones; the weakest by the strongest; and the simplest by the craftiest; as also the gentlest birds by the cruelest; and lambs, sheep, and other private, domestical and harmless beasts; by wolves, bears, lions, and other wild beasts. For it is very certain that the beasts have not offended their creator, nor deserved his wrath through any sin against him, as men have done, who being created in his own image are fallen from innocency and holiness through their own fault, & through the corruption of nature which the transgression of God's ordinance hath brought upon them. And if we cannot make answer for the cause of this nature of unreasonable creatures, but only that it hath so pleased God, who is the master and lord of all these works, and who hath provided for them according to his good pleasure: surely also when we can conceive no other reason for the tyranny and cruelty of men, exercised one upon another, this same reason should then suffice us. For the only will of the eternal, the which cannot be but just and reasonable always, must ever serve for a reason, when we cannot understand the causes, as we would. But (as I said even now) this reason manifesteth itself sufficiently in his just judgements upon men, because of their sins. Now albeit we hold this sufficiently good in regard of the wicked, and of those who oppose themselves and rebel fiercely against the Almighty: yet the consideration might seem to us to be otherwise in respect of the meek, and of those whom he holdeth not only for his servants, but also for his beloved children: who nevertheless are commonly a pray to the wicked, as sheep are to wolves. I must indeed confess, that these judgements of God seem more strange to human reason, than the other do: yet they are not so secret and mystical, but that he manifesteth causes enough, not only by his word, 
Notable things to be considered in the adversities of the good.  but also by common experience. For first, how much goodness, holiness and perfection soever can consist in any man, yet nevertheless as concerning his flesh, he walloweth altogether in sin, and very much natural corruption, in pride, arrogancy, rebellion, and disobedience against God, which have great need to be better mortified, humbled, tamed, and brought down. Again how easy a matter is it for us to forget our Creator, and our own selves, and to abuse all the graces and benefits, which we receive continually at his hand? Also seeing that he will be glorified, and that his power shall be known in the faith, constancy, charity, and patience of his; we should not think it strange that he puts them to trial, exercising them by divers great and dangerous temptations and afflictions. Now the tyranny, malice, cruelty, and perverseness of the wicked, serveth in all these things for his children, and to his glory, through his providence; notwithstanding that he hateth all the wicked, using them only as rods and scourges, to chastise and punish those whom he pleaseth; as he is likewise served by devils, without approving their works, insomuch as they proceed from themselves. But there is more yet: For considering that God hath not created men like unto beasts, only to live in this world, with a corporal & temporal life, but hath made them to immortality and eternal life like the angels: he will then by the adversities, which he sendeth unto them, here give them to understand, that other blessings do attend for them far greater than those, which may be tasted upon earth, and which are common betwixt them and beasts. Behold then the fruit, which me seemeth must be gathered in our discourse this day: now to morrow we will step out of the sea and waters, to take land again, and to consider upon the treasures and benefits therein, which it produceth for the commodity of men, and the diversity of creatures that live therein: whereof (ASER) you shall begin to discourse.   
The end of the eighth days work.   

THE NINTH DAYS WORK.  

Of fruits, and of the fertility of the earth, and the causes thereof: and of herbs, trees and plants. Chap. 65.  ASER. 
AS the holy scripture teacheth us, that before God did create the beasts of the earth, 
Genes. 1.  he commanded the earth that was discovered and free from the waters, to bud forth the bud of the herb, that seedeth seed, the fruitful tree which beareth fruit according to his kind, which hath his seed in itself upon the earth (and it was so:) we must likewise understand, that this commandment had not such virtue for that time only, but that it endureth and remaineth always, and so will do till the consummation of the world. For all herbs, trees, and plants that the earth ever hath borne, doth bear, or shall bear, even from the creation of the same until the end of the world, do proceed from the first ordinance and eternal word of the sovereign, by which all things have been created. Wherefore Moses, to the end that men might acknowledge this divine power, which maketh the earth so fruitful, doth expressly tell us, that God gave this fertility before there was any sun, moon, or star in heaven. For he saith, that these goodly lights were created the fourth day: but that the production of herbs, 
What is the cause of the fertility of the earth.  trees & plants was on the third day. Thereby than we must learn, that although the sun, moon and stars, besides the husbandry of man, do serve by the ordinance of God for to make the earth fertile; yet for all that it can bring forth no fruit, if the word and blessing of the Almighty do not give it power. For as it was fertile before it was aided by the stars, even so is it now in regard of the tillage and husbandry of man. For there was neither man nor beast when it budded forth the fruits, which God commanded it to bear: yea so much wanteth it to become fruitful by the travel of man, that to the contrary it hath lost very much fertility, and a great part thereof hath become barren since his first creation, because of his sin. For in am of the blessing that God at first gave thereunto, 
Genes. 3.  he said afterwards to the man that it should be cursed for his sake, and that it should bring forth thorns and thistles, and that he should eat the fruits thereof in sorrow. For these causes than we must always have respect to the power of the word, and of the blessing of God, by which all things have been created in their order (as we have heretofore declared) and man last of all, as the masterpiece of the Lords work. Who having determined in his eternal counsel to create man after his own image and likeness (to the end that he might in this visible world represent his creator, as in his most lively semblance) was not only pleased to build him his lodging first (to wit the whole world) but would also replenish and furnish it every where, to the end that nothing might be found empty. But that which is herein to be chief considered, is, that this divine providence having given essence to all corporal creatures, hath therewithal provided necessary means to keep and preserve them all in their natures. For minding to give life to birds, to fishes, and to the beasts of the earth, he had already prepared their food, before he had created them, and had ordained the earth as the mother and the nurse of all creatures which are engendered and which dwell and are conversant therein; 
How creatures are nourished, and preserved.  and in the waters and air also, for the birds and fishes. Moreover as all bodies are composed of fire, of air, of earth, and of water; so the Lords will was, that all these enemies should conjoin together, and receive aid one from another; to the preservation of living creatures by virtue of the alliance and agreement, which is not only betwixt the said elements, but also betwixt them and the celestial spheres, as we have already discoursed. For considering that they be the principles of things having life, they cannot live, nor be naturally conserved but by mean of the very same elements, from which they take their original. And therefore the providence of God causeth, that they do all accord together, to nourish and maintain those creatures, which he hath made and created.  
But seeing that we are in talk of the fertility of the Earth, 
Of the fertility of the earth.  ordained by God to that end, according as we have declared, who is it that can number the divers kinds of herbs, of trees, and of all sorts of plants which it produceth? And who is it that can but only name and find proper denominations agreeable unto them? And if we should speak of their diversities and varieties in roots, in stalks, in stocks, in tops, in branches, in boughs, in leaves, in shapes, in flowers, in colours, in seeds, in fruits, in tastes, in smells, and in savours: who would not marvel very much? We see how the Lord speaking only of the Lily of the field, doth testify, that Solomon in all his royalty was not adorned like one of those: and therefore he bringeth it as a testimony of his goodness in reproach of those, which take care for their clothing, as if they disinherited in the providence of God, 
Matth. 6. Luk. 12.  and as if they supposed him not able enough to apparel them; or at least, that he had not so much care of men, as he hath of the herbs and flowers of the field, which he endueth and decketh with so gallant clothing, & with so many sorts of excellent fair colours, and yet they neither spin nor have weavers, nor clothiers, nor drapers, nor other worke-folks and tradesmen to deal for them. Yea, how marvelous is the conservation and multiplication of all plants, by means of their own seeds, scion's and fruits, according as the Creator did at first constitute? For that I may first speak of the smaller sort, who could believe, if experience did not assure us, that of one little grain of mustard seed should grow a great and high plant, like a little shrub, 
Matth. 12.  in such sort that the birds of heaven might make their nests therein? Then let us consider, how corn, pulse, and all other sorts of seeds do bud, grow, and multiply. But who of himself would judge, that out of one little kernel of a nut or filbert, there could grow so great trees, and so much wood, as should bear innumerable leaves and buds, and so much fruit each year, every one according to his own kind, and that for long time? Would not all this seem incredible, if we were not ascertained by continual experience, and a sure course in Nature? And if God doth show himself most wonderful in all these things, in regard of the herbs, trees and plants: what shall we say, if we proceed to the consideration of their natures, properties and virtues; and of the commodities, remedies and profits, 
Wonders concerning the properties, and virtues of the fruits of the earth.  which men receive thereby? This surely is the most principal point. For how admirable is it, that by the means of herbs, trees, and other plants, which have no soul, that may minister life unto them, with motion and sense, and which may much less participate with any reason; God doth not only preserve the life of men, and of other creatures (a thing to be wondered at) but doth also thereby give them strength, vigour, and force? For what are these herbs and plants, which produce all sorts of corn, pulse, and other grain, of which men make food, and are thereby nourished? What is the vine and other fruit-trees? Who could think, if he saw it not with his eyes, that there is neither man, nor beast, that could be nourished and preserve his life, but by such means? For how can that thing either give, or preserve and maintain life, which hath no life in itself? And yet if we will consider of the medicines and remedies, which men find in herbs and plants only, besides those which they may take from other creatures, who can in truth either declare or write, I will not say all of them, but only the thousandth part? For although the most excellent physicians have always traveled in this part of their art, which is commonly called the Knowledge of Simples; yet how far off are they from the full and perfect theoric of them? For what a number of herbs and roots be there which are unknown, and have yet no name? And how many are there which are taken one for another, and wherein the most skilful Physicians and Herbarists are oftentimes deceived? And yet this little which we know, should move us to think upon the great and ineffable bounty of God towards men, and upon the fatherly care which he hath of us all. For though that by our sins we have merited death both of body and soul, which death our sin hath not only gained, but also many divers and strange sorts of diseases and corporal infirmities most grievous and terrible; yea sometimes hideous and horrible, which are like butchers and slaughterer's to put them to death: yet the charity and love of our God is always so great towards mankind, that he giveth us as many and more; yea sundry medicines for one only malady. But we will be instructed more amply by you (AMANA) in this matter, that we may acknowledge therein very clear testimonies of the providence of God.   

Of the virtue that herbs, and other fruits of the earth have in physic and in food; and of the true use of them. Chap. 66.  AMANA. 
IT is daily seen, that by the means of some small herbs, which grow in a garden or in a mountain, or in some other desert place, and which also are oftentimes trodden under foot, without any account made of them; many are commonly delivered, not only from great pains and grievous maladies, but even from death itself, which otherwise it seemeth would most certainly approach. Wherein certes, we have a goodly subject to consider, that if God giveth this virtue to creatures of small estimation in comparison of many others, and that by the means of them he ministereth so great help, and doth so much good to man; what must be the power and bounty of that great and sovereign physician, which maketh them prevail, and gives them power to heal? For we must understand, that it is not the herbs, nor other drugs and preparatives, nor yet the apothecary's and physicians, who make and compound them, that are the true cause of restored-health to the sick: but God alone, who doth not only give the remedies, but also knowledge to men how for to use them, and to be skilful how to apply them to their own necessities, for which he hath created them. Herein than we must acknowledge two great benefits, that the most good and most puissant God hath conferred upon us. The first is, 
Two great good things that God hath done for man.  that he hath given us medicines fit and necessary for healing. The other is the knowledge of them, and the theoric how to apply them to their convenient purpose and usage. And one of these benefits without the other, would indeed but little avail us. For as the workman cannot work without such stuff as is requisite for him to make his work of, as also it would be unprofitable if no man should employ it, and put it to use: for the same cause, God, which taketh care of the least of his creatures, hath imprinted in the nature of brute beasts, that want understanding and reason, a certain knowledge of things that are fit for them, not only for their nourishment, but also for remedies in their diseases, so that they need no other physicians but themselves only.  

What judgement must be made of the virtue that the fruits of the earth do retain for the good of men.  But in this discourse we are to note, what judgement we must make of so great virtue, as we find in all herbs and drugs, and by like reason, that we must consider thereof in the property of corn, bread, wine, and of all meats and drinks, which are as ordinary and continual medicines for the preservation of life. For if that which is diminished and consumed daily in us, were not also repaired and restored daily by our meat and drink; we should fall suddenly into grievous maladies, and finally into death. Forasmuch then as it pleaseth God to preserve the life, which he hath given us, and to maintain us in health and good disposition; he giveth power to that, which we eat and drink, to do this. But if it should please him to do otherwise, there were neither meat nor drink, which could give any sustenance and convenient nourishment unto us, but would rather convert within us, into deadly poison, to take away our life, and hasten our death, even as God doth oftentimes to that effect use the air, without which we could no more live, then without meat and drink. And therefore when it pleaseth God that we shall live in health and long time; he maketh the air good and wholesome for us: if otherwise it pleaseth him to strike us with sickness, and to hasten our death, he changeth it, as if it were empoisoned, as we do very often find in divers contagious sicknesses, and chief in time of pestilence. The like also is in victuals, drinks, and medicines. And therefore the Lord menaceth his people by isaiah, declaring unto them, that he will take away the staff of bread and of water: that is to say, the substance and natural virtue, which he hath given them to nourish, which is the force that sustaineth them, who are sustained, as a staff sustaineth him that is weak: and as man cannot live, except he have both meat and drink sufficient; the prophet hath comprised under bread and water, all things needful for nourishment, and for the life of man. It is therefore in these things, that God saith, he will take away all power, 
Levit. 28. Deut. 16.  as also Moses doth amply declare in the blessings and curses of the law. For let us also note, that when God will punish men by dearth and famine, he doth not only make the earth barren (as he threateneth) but also curseth that little fruit, which it beareth, yea in such sort, that it still diminisheth, and hath not the accustomed virtue and power to nourish. And therefore, when the corn is sown, it yieldeth not so many ears nor so many grains in the field, as is expected, and as it seemeth that it should yield. And afterwards when it is gathered and reaped, and that it cometh to be threshed, there is yet found less corn than was esteemed to be. And being laid up in the barn, it consumeth more than of custom: carried to the mill, it yields less meal than is looked for: yea being kneaden into dough it seemeth to diminish: briefly it seemeth to fail being made in paste, brought to the oven, and so baked, when it is in the been, & upon the table, yea in the hand, in the mouth, in the stomach, and in the belly. For it doth not satisfy, nourish, and sustain so well as in time of plenty and abundance, but they which feed thereof, are always hungry and famished. And so we may think of all other meats and drinks: even as we find the contrary in the blessing of God, when through it he giveth fruitfulness to the earth, and abundance of all things, according to the testimony of his word. As than we are admonished to have recourse to him only, to demand our daily bread, and all other things needful for this life: so must we also do, when we are visited by sickness. For he is the sovereign and only physician, who can of himself heal us. It is he that striketh, and giveth remedy, which bringeth to the grave, and draweth out again; which killeth, and raiseth up again. And therefore he saith to his people by Moses, [If thou wilt diligently hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God, 
Exod. 15.  and wilt do that which is right in his sight, and wilt give ear unto his commandments, and keep all his ordinances; then will I put none of these diseases upon thee, which I brought upon the Egyptians: for I am the Lord that healeth thee.] But although that God alone can do all things, without the aid of any creature, and without the use of any means, except he please: 
Why God doth serve himself with his creatures towards man.  yet doth he choose out such means as he pleaseth, to perform his works towards us, and to distribute his gifts, and that chief for two causes. The first is, for that he will not have his creatures remain idle, but serve to his glory, and for the good and health of men, considering that they were created to that end. And the other cause is, that it pleaseth him to accommodate himself to our infirmity, which is such, as we do not think that he is near unto us, nor that he can or will do it, except we have always some visible signs. Although then it is as easy for him to nourish us without victuales and without drink, as with them, and to heal us without Physicians and medicines and drugs, as he doth by means of them: nevertheless it is his pleasure to do it by such aids, and he will have us subject to this order. And therefore let us think, that to despise the means which he giveth for the maintenance of this life, is as much as to despise his commandments, like mockers and rebels. And if we be such, we may not hope for any succours from him, seeing we reject the remedies, by which he will give them unto us. But we must always come to this point, that although we cannot receive the benefits which it pleaseth the most good God to communicate unto us, except by the means ordained by his providence thereto; yet nevertheless we must not attribute this power to any of his creatures, but to him only, and must give him the whole glory; considering that he taketh them not for any need which he hath, or that without them he could not perform his works, but only for the aid and supportation of our infirmity. And therefore let us believe, that bread, wine, and all other meats, drinks, drugs and medicines, have not any virtue of themselves, but so much only, as God infuseth into them, and as he thinketh needful for our good, by such instruments as he ordaineth thereto. Wherefore men run in vain to such aids, and especially to Physicians and apothecary's to be succoured by them, except God the sovereign Physician do put his hand thereto, and except he bless their art and labour. 
Of the true use of physic, and how it is abused.  Experience certainly doth yield us daily testimony thereof. For it oftentimes happeneth that in stead of helping, Physicians do hurt; and in stead of healing, do kill. And how so? Because there are very few which address themselves to the true and Almighty Physician, and who have not more confidence in mortal men then in the immortal God, as king Asa is accused in the Scripture, and punished for this fault with death. True it is, that some fail, in that which they make none account of the ordinary means established by God, despising both Physicians and all the medicines of their art, which is almost as much, as to refuse the usage of those benefits which God giveth us at need. But the greatest number consisteth of those, who not only have recourse chief to the professors of this science, and put all their confidence in them, but will moreover in stead of using the advise and assistance of good and learned physicians, address themselves more willingly to Empirics, and such as are ignorant, or else are sorcerers, enchanters, witches and worshippers of devils. If then our desire be, not to fail with the one nor the other, we must rest in that way which is showed us in Ecclesiasticus, to wit, [Honour the Physician with that honour that is due unto him, because of thy necessity: 
Eccles. 38.  for the Lord hath created him. For of the most high cometh healing, and the Physician shall receive gifts of the king. The knowledge of the Physician lifteth up his head, and he shall be in admiration. The Lord hath created medicines of the earth, & he that is wise will not abhor them. 
Exod. 15.  Was not the water made sweet with wood, that men might know the virtue thereof? So hath he given men knowledge, that he might be glorified in his wondrous works.] Which is as much to say, that as God hath sweetened the bitterness of the waters in the desert, by means of wood which he caused Moses to cast thereinto; so likewise doth he manifest his power by the art of Physic, showing marvelous effects thereby. And therefore the wise man doth add [With medicines God healeth men, and taketh away their pains. Of such doth the apothecary make a confection, and yet he cannot finish his own work, for of the Lord cometh prosperity and health over all the earth.] And finally he exhorteth the sick to pray: saying, [My son fail not in thy sickness, but pray unto the Lord, and he will make thee whole: leave off from sin, and order thine hands aright, and cleanse thine heart from all wickedness. Then give place to the physician, for the Lord hath created him: let him not go from thee, for thou hast need of him. The hour may come that their enterprises may have good success: for they also pray unto the Lord, that he would prosper that, which is given for ease, and their physic for the prolonging of life.] Wherein namely this holy parsonage doth evidently declare, what is the virtue of physicians, if they desire, that the Lord would bless their works, without whose blessing they can never come to a prosperous end. Behold then what seemed good unto me to note concerning the true use of the great and excellent gifts, which God communicateth with us for the maintenance of man's life. And pursuing this subject, let us speak something more particularly concerning the diversity and singularity of divers plants: the discourse whereof (ARAM) I commit to you.   

Of the diversity of plants, and of their difference and natural growth; and of their parts, and of the most excellent amongst them. Chapter 67.  ARAM. 

Four kinds of plants.  THE learned teach, that there are four kinds of plants, to wit, trees, shrubs, under-shrubs and herbs. Now a tree is that, whose stock waxeth green every year, and therefore groweth to great height, as the peartree. The shrub called of Latins (Frutex) is that whose stock remaineth for many years together, but it groweth not very high (as the rose-tree and the myrtle.) The under-shrub called (Subfrutex) resteth also upon the stock, but exceedeth not the height of herbs (as the broom.) And the herb is that which hath neither stalk nor stock (as houseleek & sage:) or else hath a stock, but so as it changeth every year (as the fennel.) And yet a fift kind may be added between the herb & the shrub (as rue:) because that sometimes it groweth great like a shrub, and sometimes remaineth like other herbs, which is also usual to the cabbage. But generally all plants may attain to great height by husbandry. Also amongst sallet-herbes, specially those which are green, do oftentimes grow into shrubs, by the industry of man in winter time: whereby it appeareth, that we must not take the true difference of plants, and of their kinds, by their greatness or growth: no more then in that the leaves of plants are not all of one bigness, or because they always stay upon some, and fall off from others: or because they differ in colour, or else because one plant is barren, 
In what we must take the difference of plants.  and another beareth fruit. But we must take this difference in four things, which are the virtue and property, the odour, the savour, and the shape of the leaves, buds, fruit, bark and roots, and generally of the whole plant. Of which four differences the principal is the faculty, virtue, or property: for the virtue proceedeth from the form, and the form is that which distinguisheth the kinds. And therefore though the willow, and the Vitex (called Agnus castus) have their leaves and bark alike, it should nevertheless be a manifest error to use the one for the other. For the Vitex is hot and dry in the third degree (of which it hath this mark, that it driveth away ventosities, and flourisheth first amongst all trees:) but the willow is cold and moist, flourishing very late, and causing ventosities. Now for the odour or sent, one may evidently know by them the temperature of plants. And therefore they which are of one kind, although the one grow in India, and the other in Scythia, yet do they necessarily participate with the self same principal virtues. And for the savour and figure, they are discerned by the taste and eye: wherein it is necessary to employ much diligence and labour, to judge well concerning the difference of plants. Those than which are alike in form, in power, in odour, and in taste, may without doubt be accounted of one self same kind: For we search out the names of them according to their virtues. Whereupon ensueth, that they which have one self same virtue, may be comprised under one kind, though the herbalist call them by sundry names, according to the proportion of their figure.  
Now some plants do grow naturally in fields, and forests, some in the sea, others in rivers, others on the shore side, some in marshes, some amongst stones, sands, and gravel, some in pits, and so of others in such like places. For the place, in which they grow, or to which they are removed (and the temperature of the air) are much available to cause them grow, and fructify. Through which occasion, there are higher trees, more flourishing, fairer to behold, and more charged with leaves, and fruit, 
The place, and temperature of the air, of great efficacy in the production of plants.  in some places, rather than in other. Whereupon ensueth that such as love mountains (as the Cedar, Saple, Pine, the Turpentine tree, Box tree, juniper tree, Beech, and the Planetree) do there grow high, and fair: as in the plains and low forests, the Oak, the Beech, the Corke-tree, the Elm, the Maple, the Ash, the Hasell-tree do grow best. But near to rivers and ●atrie places, the Planetree, the Alder, the white and black Poplar, the Tamariske, the Willow and the Reed do sping at pleasure: though many of them do grow in mountains, valleys, plains and forests, but they prosper not there so well. This difference also is marked in herbs and shrubs. For some grow well in marshes, others in lakes and pools, others on rivers sides, other prosper in waterish and muddy places, others again not abiding them, do grow in dry and stony ground. Some spring indifferently both in moist and dry ground. And some require the fields, others vineyards, and others meadows. Some also love the valleys, others hillocks, & others high mountains. Some likewise prosper in private places, and grow near to walls of towns and cities, and some grow in old ruins. But it is to be noted, that though each kind of plants grow and prosper best in his proper ground, and doth love very much his own natural situation; yet sometimes herbs are found indifferently in mountains, hillocks, valleys, fields and meadows. Likewise the industry and travel of man doth bring to pass, that that which is strange, becometh domestical; yet not without some manifest difference between the pure natural production, and that which is caused by art. Moreover the parts of plants are, the root, the stock, 
The parts of plants.  the branches, the leaves, the fruit, the stalk, the tufts called (Vmbellae) the grains, the seeds, the flowers, the mossie-downe, the wood, the bark, the sinews, the inner pil, the veins, the sap, the pith, the gum called (Lachryma) the knot, and many other small parcels, which the curious observe therein: all which serve to distinguish trees and herbs one from another: which parts are somewhat answerable to the parts of living creatures. For the roots seem to agree with the belly (as Theophrastus holdeth) or else with the mouth (as others maintain, who refer the lower part of the stock to the belly) and the leaves have some reference to the hair; the bark to the hide and skin, the wood to the bones, the veins to the veins, the matrice to some entrails, which cannot live without the matrice, the flowers to eggs, the seeds to seed, the branches and boughs to the extreme parts of living creatures, and the fruit to the menstruous blood, wherein the seed is many times enclosed. Moreover the parts of parts are worthy of consideration, as those of the root, whose middle part is as it were of wood, out of which the plant doth oftentimes bud, and is therefore defended with greater strength. And therefore if this middle part be taken out of garlic, that which remaineth is not so sharp, and of so strong savour as before, and it seemeth likewise to be less full of juice. Next, the second part is (the rind or coat) which is very small, and the third is the peel or husk: and the fourth is the inner-peele, which environeth the husk, which is not properly called so, because it is meant for that, which compasseth the seed of the fruit, and the fruit itself; and also because it containeth that which environeth the wood in the root, instead of the seed. Whereby it appeareth, that they which cast away this part full of wood when they make their decoctions, do very ill, considering that it is the most excellent of all the rest, and of greatest force: 
That the wood of roots must not be cast away in decoctions.  for that which produceth the seed, that only containeth the whole virtue thereof, because it alone hath life. That part than which is of wood, seemeth to be the chief and principal substance of the medicine: because that that thing only which liveth, produceth the seed, & in that part only wherein it hath life. For although that in succory, and such like herbs, some leaves grow out of the bark: yet the herb itself, and the seed do proceed out of the wood. As the leaves than are in the stalk or slip; so is the bark in the wood: and both leaves and bark are therein for safeguard thereof. In the lower part the juice falleth into the root: by the middle part the root is nourished, and in the uppermost part it is converted into seed. Wherefore the uppermost part of the root is best, and most different from the nature of earth. The flowers likewise have their parts; for there is a kind of leaf in the flower which always shineth, and is in all flowers, because it is made of a very fine substance. The buds likewise wherein the flowers are contained are parts of them; and the seed of which the flower springeth, as it is cause of the generation thereof; so is it a part of the flower, 
What plants and what parts of them have the greatest virtue.  and so is the stalk or foot, called (Pediculus) in which all these things are as it were planted and adjoined thereto. Let us also note, that amongst trees the old are of more subtle quality than the other. And every tree, which beareth leaves all the year long, is hot and dry (as the palm tree, the olive tree, the cedar, the myrtle.) But this reason is not available in herbs: for houseleek is of a gross substance, and yet beareth leaves all winter. And indeed both in herbs and trees they which grow wild abroad are better than the domestical: and so are they which are odoriferous, much more than they which have a bad savour, and have no sent at all, especially if they grow in mountains: and therefore they are preferred by physicians before the other. And we must note, that most commonly the roots smell better, and are sweeter than the other parts of the plant, except the flowers, which is so because the concoction is best done in the roots. For all things, which have the humour well boiled, smell best: for that humour is most subtle and close. For which cause, all flowers almost do smell well. For by reason that the humour which is in them is very subtle and little, it is the more easily concocted therein: and therefore also it sooner perisheth. But this humour remaineth, and is preserved in the roots and in the stock; for the subtle substance thereof being well concocted, doth abide in the earthy substance, 
Why young folks breath is sweeter than that of the old.  whereby we may learn why young folks have sweeter breath then old and distempered people. For children have their humour very subtle, and the small humour may be very well concocted in young folks, by the great heat which aboundeth in them. But want of heat hindereth it in old folks, and the quality of the humour is hurt in those that are distempered, & causeth that the decoction cannot be performed. Now we have staid long enough in this discourse: But as we have distinguished plants into four principal kinds, let us now speak of the nature and property of the most especial among them; to the end that according to our intention we may not pass over any of the works of God, without producing some testimonies, which may cause us more and more to celebrate his divine providence. Then (ACHITOB) begin you to entreat of trees.   

Of trees, and especially of the Pine, the Fir-tree, the Cypresse-tree, and the Cedar. Chap. 68  ACHITOB. 

Four differences of plants transported.  IT is doubtless, that the difference of trees of one kind is chief caused by the diversity of regions. And therefore amongst those trees that are transported from one place to another; some do bear fruit (as the Palms at Genoa) some also bear, but unperfectly (as the Pepper-tree at Milan.) There are some that cannot grow, (as the wood of Aloës brought out of India into Italy:) And some bear perfect fruit, because they can agree with the air, and with the soil as well of one country as of another (as the Vines transported out of Spain into India.) But above all, the calmness of the air, and the answerableness of the place are of great efficacy in the natural property of trees, & do often cause them to bear great quantity of fruit and blossoms, and are the cause that some are always green. And therefore about the Grand Cairo, and in the country of Elephants, the leaves do never fall off the figtrees and vines: and in the Isles and other regions of the west Indies discovered by the Spaniards, there is never a tree, but is always green. And therefore there are divers trees, both of one, and of divers kinds also, higher, greener, and fairer to behold in one place then in another. For in hot and moist countries all plants grow greater, fuller of juice, and greener, 
Property of the plants according to the quality of the regions where they grow.  if the proper nature of the plant do not hinder: and in hot and dry places they are smaller and drier, and yet of no less virtue: But in moist and cold regions, the plants are weak and full of sap. And they, which are hot by nature grow broad and high; but the cold are small. Now all trees, whereof we now particularly entreat, do by nature grow greatly for the most part, and flourish a very long time. As josephus recordeth, that Abraham's Oak did yet stand in his days: And there were betwixt the destruction of Jerusalem and the death of Abraham, two thousand years. And next to the oak, the palm, the beech, the olive-tree, the elm, and the pine-tree do flourish longest.  
Now will I proceed to a particular description of some trees, the most worthy to be considered of: 
Of the pine.  amongst which the Pine challengeth the first place: whereof there are two kinds: one is domestical, and the other savage. The domestical kind hath an infinite sort of branches upon the very uppermost top of the stock, which spread round about it, being very thick of leaves, which are pointed in the end, and long; it beareth plenty of great and sound apples, wherein are certain hard kernels enclosed, as black as soot, in which the fruit is found, being covered with a thin yellow skin, easy to get off, by pilling it with your fingers. And this fruit is sweet and pleasant in taste, of a fat and oily substance. For the savage or wild one, there are many sorts of them. Some grow on mountains, others on the sea coast. They of the mountains are of three kinds. For there are some that be highest of all the rest, which abound in the forests of Bohemia, Silasia, Polonia, and other places, whereof the country men make pitch. Which are every whit like to the domestical sort, saving that their apples be less: for they be not much greater than those of Cypress, but they are a little longer, and more sound, and husked like those of the domestical Pine, being full of gum, and of a sweet sent. The second kind of these mountain Pines are such as have no stock or trunk, but sprout their branches out of their root close to the earth, running along the ground till they attain to ten or fifteen cubit's length: they bear fruit like unto the other, but of a bigger size, and fuller of gum; and are found in many places of Italy. Finally there are many other which are of goodly height, and yet not so high as those of the first kind, neither have they the bark of their stocks yellow like the other pines: likewise their fruit is somewhat inclining towards red, but more brittle than all the rest. And the kernels of them are three square and crooked, and in taste somewhat like those of the garden pine, saving that they leave a certain quick sharpness in the mouth (which is proper to all wild trees) and they abound in the territory of Trent. And the gum that proceeds out of all these sorts of pines, is white and sweet. The sea pines are of two sorts, differing only in the greatness and smallness of their fruit: and do all of them produce white odoriferous gum, which turneth into a thin liquor, 
Qualities, and virtues of the pine kernels.  whereof men make black pitch. Moreover, as concerning the fruit of the pine in general; it is most certain, that therein are many great virtues & properties, and that it is very profitable for man's body. For it is of a moderate temperature, but that it inclineth more towards heat. It ripeneth, it mollifieth, it resolveth, it fatneth, and it nourisheth well. It correcteth the humours, which are corrupted in the entrails; nevertheless it is hard in digestion: and therefore to such as are cold of nature, the kernels are ministered with honey; & to such as are hot, with sugar, to correct the strength of those kernels. They do help (being often eaten) the pains of the sinews, and are good for those that be troubled with the Sciatica, palsy, shaking, and numbnes of members. They cleanse the lungs and the corruption of them, purging out all clammy hummors and rottenness. They are profitable against the cough, and the corruption of the reins and bladder: wherefore they ease them much who piss but drop by drop, and feel their urine burn. They fatten lean folks, and being taken with the juice of purslane, they do help eruptions of the stomach. Also the picked leaves of a green pine being stamped and drunk with wine, do appease pains of the heart. 
Other properties of some parts of the pine.  But the patient must abstain from all fat meats. Of the scales that cover the pine apples being sodde in very sharp vinegar, is made a singular perfume against the Dysenteria. And the water of those apples very green, being distilled through a limbeck doth wash out the wrinkles of the face. Moreover of the oldest pines is pitch made, which is called Naval, by reason that it is very good to pitch ships: which to do men cut down the pines with an hatchet which are become full of gummy juice, and hew them in pieces, as they do other trees to make coals of. Whereupon let us note, that they which inhabit mountains say, that it is a malady amongst pines, when not only the heart thereof, but the outward part of the stock doth convert into a gummy substance: which happeneth to them through great abundance of liquor, which causeth them to die, even as too much fat suffocateth living creatures. And out of this gummy wood is pitch, by wondrous skill extracted, and the oil and foot are separated, which have divers properties in medicines.  
Let us now speak of the Fir-tree, 
Of the fir-tree, and of the rosin which it produceth.  which groweth uprightest of all the trees, and therefore is very fit to employ in all works: There are such high ones, that in Sweden some are seen of an hundred foot in length, and that of some, which are strait and of a like thickness every where without knots, men may make work of an hundred and ten foot long. This tree beareth fruit of a span long, composed of certain scales, being one compiled upon another, under which the white seed is included, without any juice in them. It produceth an exquisite liquor and gum betwixt two barks, which is called in vulgar Italian (Lagrimo) that is, the Tear of the Fir-tree, and it runneth under the first bark, which being opened, lies like the matter of an old impostume. This gum is liquid, of a very good smell, and somewhat sharp in taste. It is very good for green wounds, not only because it searcheth them, but also because it is mundificative and incarnative. Being assumed in drink, it cleanseth the reins of gravel, and doth much assuage the pains of the gout, and of the sciatica. It healeth marvelously well all wounds of the head, so that no other thing be applied thereto.  
The Cypress is likewise rich in beauty and in properties: 
Of the cypress tree, and the properties thereof.  of which trees there are male and female: the female grows always pointed towards the top, and the male hath his branches spread abroad. Each of them is a very high tree, strait, and bearing branches only in the top thereof. And this tree is driest of all others, having the humour very fat, and well digested. And therefore it agreeth not with dung and excrements, and waxeth dry near to waters. The wood thereof is odoriferous, and looseth not the sent by oldness, neither is eaten with worms, nor doth rot through any fault: but the leaves of this tree beaten into powder, and strewed amongst apparel, or with the seed, do defend them that worms cannot annoy them. It beareth fruit three times a year, which is hard and sound, containing the seed within. It casteth out of the stock some gum, but very little, like unto Turpentine, and almost of the same nature. This tree is very common in Italy. But the right and natural country thereof is the isle of Candie: for in what place soever the ground be there removed and tilled, if nothing else be sown therein, the Cypress will presently spring up of itself. The decoction of their nuts made in strong vinegar, assuageth the pain of the teeth, if the mouth be often washed therewith. So much doth the decoction of the leaves. Which nuts being stamped and drunk with old wine, appease the ●…ough. They are very good, and the leaves also, to search great wounds in tough bodies. Whereby it appeareth, that this tree hath the virtue to dry up, without much sharpness and heat, as the taste doth testify. For one shall taste therein very little sharpness, much bitterness, and more sourness.  

Of the cedar, and of the gum thereof.  The Cedar also is a tree that groweth very big, and beareth fruit almost like to that of the Cypress tree, but a little bigger. There be some that bear no fruit although that they bud. And that which beareth fruit buddeth not, and the new fruit appeareth thereupon before the old is perfectly ripe. Out of this tree runneth an excellent white and liquid gum, which in time is by heat of the sun congealed into grains. In Syria, and especially in mount Libanon the Cedars grow very high, and in great plenty, and are very like to fir-tree. Their branches from the bottom to the top, are almost spread and placed round about it, in fashion like the spokes of a wheel, and the highest are evermore shortest. Wherefore this tree a far off seemeth to represent the figure of a Pyramid. The heart or pith of the Cedar is very hard, sweet, and red: wherefore the ancients supposed, that the wood could not wear, nor become worm-eaten: but would endure for ever. So Solomon caused the holy temple of God in jerusalem to be builded thereof: and the pagans made their statues of it, thinking it would endure as long as marble or brass. Some say that the greatest which was ever seen, was hewed in Cypress to make the galley of Demetrius, which had eleven oars upon a side. For it was one hundred and thirty foot long, and as thick as three men might fathom. There are also in many places of Greece, two kinds of small Cedars, which are like to the juniper tree. Now all Cedars are of nature hot and dry in the third degree: And the oil, which is made of their gum approacheth to the fourth degree, and is very subtle. Wherefore it doth easily and without pain rot soft and delicate flesh: but in hard bodies it operateth with more time & difficulty. It drieth dead bodies, and preserveth them from putrefaction, by consuming the superfluous humours, without touching the sound parts: but in living bodies, the heat which consisteth in them, doth augment the forces of this oil, which causeth it to burn the tender flesh. Wherefore having such virtue, it is no marvel if it kill nits, lice, worms, and vermin in the ears: and if being applied it killeth the child in the mother's womb, and being dead doth void it out, with many other effects which physicians attribute unto it. But I commend to you (ASER) the sequel of our discourse concerning trees.   

Of trees bearing Cinnamon, Cassia, Frankincense, Myrrh and Cloves. Chap. 69.  ASER. 
THe love of ones native soil hath a marvelous power in all things: for nature produceth in some places such stubborn plants, that for any endeavour and pains, which one may take with them, yet can they not be retained or kept but in their own proper ground. Many great personages both in France and in Italy have taken pains to tame them, and cause them to grow in gardens, orchards, and other most pleasant places, as any in the world. But as rustical mountainers despise the delights and gallantness of cities, and esteem not of civility and honesty of manners, not being able to live any where at ease and pleasure but in their own cottages: so it seemeth that many plants, which are brought amongst us, and husbanded with great care and labour, despising the sweetness of the air, the beauty of gardens, the pleasant watering of fountains, and the goodly company of infinite herbs and trees already made familiar, have at last retired into their own deserts and wildernesses, and into the place of their original. Now of the number of these is the Cinnamon, which though that while Rome flourished (as many author's record) it was planted in divers places, yet now is there not any of it to be found throughout Italy, nay in all Europe. But Asia aboundeth therewith in many places, yea so doth Arabia foelix in divers parts, and much more India, especially in one island called Monorique, the mountains whereof bear plenty of Cinamon-trees.  

Of the tree that beareth cinnamon.  This tree is somewhat like to our Laurel tree, having many branches, at the end whereof, it beareth very small blossoms, which being dried by the heat of the sun, and fallen on the ground, there is form thereof a little round fruit, not much bigger than an hazel nut, out of the kernel whereof the Islanders do extract good oil, wherewith the diseased do rub their sinews, and other in●●●● parts. The king of Monorique receiveth great pr●● through these trees: for none may be permitted to touch them without his licence. And certain months of the year he causeth some twigs and scion's to be cut, the smallest and finest that may be in the tree, and the bark of them to be peeled off, which is sold very dear to such strangers as traffic therein. For this is the best of the tree. But the Cinnamon which is brought hither, is nothing else but the second bark, that is peeled off, which being cut with a little knife, rolleth up together of itself, 
Propertie of cinnamon.  and changeth colour. Moreover the property of Cinnamon is to dry and heat to the third degree: for it consisteth of very subtle parts, and is very sharp in taste, and of a certain quick astriction: by means whereof it taketh away and dissolveth the superfluities of the body, & fortifieth the members. There is a distilled water made of Cinnamon, which is strong in smell and taste, and is of great virtue. For take a pound of Cinnamon, bray it, and put it into a vessel with four pound of Rose-water, and half a pound of white wine: then set your vessel being very close stopped, in warm water, and then make your distillation in the same water, being placed upon a furnace, wherein the fire is temperately maintained, in such sort that the said warm water do always boil. And this distilled water is very sovereign against all diseases that come through cold, for it dissolveth and consumeth phlegm and clammy humours, and chaseth away all windines. It doth especially comfort the stomach, the liver, the spleen, the brain, and the sinews. It is a singular and present remedy against faintness of the heart, against pains and prickings of the mouth and stomach: it resisteth poisons, and bitings of venomous beasts; it provoketh urine, and the flowers in women: It is good for those that have short breath, that are sick of the palsy, or have the falling sickness. And in a word, when need is to heat, to open, to pierce, to resolve, and to comfort; this water is very profitable therefore.  
Now let us speak of the tree that beareth Cassia. 
Of the tree bearing cassia.  For it is in the number of the greatest and most singular trees. The wood thereof is massive, close, of the colour of box near the bark, and black in the midst like Ebony. When it is green, it hath a bad smell, but this savour doth wear away being dry. It beareth certain cod, which hang upon the branches very long, round, and massive, which being ripe, wax black and somewhat reddish. And they are full of a soft and black sap, like to thick cream, not sticking altogether like marrow in a bone, but is contained as it were in little cases, being one separated from another by thin skins set very close together: betwixt every one of which there is a very hard grain. In Egypt and in India are very many of these Cassia trees, and in the isle of Taprobana. Their cod are not very great, but clear, heavy, and very full: in such sort, that if they be shaken, one cannot hear the grains rattle therein, and these are the best. The sap or juice of them is hot and moist in the third degree. 
Property of the cassia.  It is lenitive and loosening, and purifieth the blood. It stauncheth heat of choler, and doth moderately loosen the belly. It is marvelous profitable for those that cannot make water, especially if it be used with medicines that provoke urine. It purgeth choler and phlegm, and mollifieth the breast and the throat, and resolveth inflammations therein: it cleanseth the rains from gravel and sand, if it be drunk with the decoction of liquor as and other simples fit to provoke urine: and if it be often taken, it hindereth the stone in the rains. Besides all this, it is good against hot agues, and being outwardly applied, it assuageth inflammations.  
Amongst aromatical trees, the tree that beareth frankincense is worthy to be considered of. 
Of the frankincense tree.  The form thereof is somewhat like to a pine, and out of it runs a liquor, that afterwards waxeth hard, which we call frankincense: whereof there are two sorts. One sort is gathered in summer in the dogge-days, in the greatest burning heat of the year, at which time the bark is split, being then fullest of moisture. And this frankincense is whitish, transparent and pure. The other kind is gathered in the Spring time, by means of another incision, which is made in this tree in winter, and it is somewhat red, approaching nothing near either in goodness or value, or else in weight or virtue to the first. Arabia hath many forests wherein frankincense is found. And the inhabitants of the country do lance the trees with a knife to cause them distill gum the better, or else the liquor whereof it is made: 
Propertie of frankincense.  amongst which trees there are some, that may yield above threescore pounds every year. Moreover being taken in drink it is very good against Dysenterias and fluxes of the belly. It increaseth the memory, chaseth away sadness, rejoiceth the heart, & is profitable for all the passions thereof. It also stayeth the bleeding at nose, being incorporated with the white of an egg and aloes, and put into the nostrils in a tent. It likewise appeaseth the pains of the megrim, being mixed with myrrh and glaire of an egg, and applied to the forehead and temples. It is also hot in the second degree, and dry in the first, and hath some astriction, which is but little found in that which is white.  

Of the tree that bears myrrh.  Let us speak of myrrh, which groweth abundantly in the same regions where frankincense doth. The tree which beareth it is full of prickles in some places, being of five or six cubits high, very hard and crooked, and thicker than the frankincense tree, the bark smooth like a laurel tree, and the leaves like those of the olive tree, but rougher, having certain sharp prickles at the end. Out of this tree there distilleth a gummy liquor like tears, which hardeneth by little and little, and is of colour somewhat green, and is clear and sweet, though somewhat unpleasant in taste through bitterness. Whereby it appeareth that the myrrh which here we have is not right, for all these marks are not found therein, but it is black, and as if it were scorched, mouldy and mossy on the outside. Which we need not think strange, considering that even in Alexandria, where our men do commonly buy myrrh, there is scarce any to be gotten which is not sophisticate. For the Arabian Mahometans, who bring it thither, and sell it, do therein use a thousand deceits, mocking at such Christians as traffic with them, and at their curiosity. There is great difference then betwixt natural myrrh, which distilleth out of the tree; and artificial being sophisticated with gum, and mixed with other things, 
Propertie of myrrh.  such as is ordinary in our Apothecary's shops. Now the right myrrh is of hot and dry quality in the second degree: and being drunk, it is very profitable for those that have the quartain ague. It is used in Antidotes against poisons, against hurts by venomous beasts, and against the plague. And being applied to wounds in the head, it will heal them.  
Let us now speak of the tree that beareth cloves, 
Of the Clove-tree.  which groweth in the southeast countries in certain isles of the Indian sea. The stock thereof is like to that of a box tree, and so is the wood. It flourisheth almost like to a laurell-tree, and the fruit groweth in this manner. At the end of every little branch there doth first appear a bud, which produceth a flower or blossom of purple colour, afterwards by little & little the fruit is form, and cometh to that pass, as we behold it, being red when it groweth out of the bloom: but by heat of the Sun it waxeth black afterwards in such sort as it is brought hither. The inhabitants of the country, especially of the Isles of Molucca, do plant and set clove-trees almost in the same manner, as we in Europe do our vines. And that they may preserve this fruit and spice a long time; they make pits in the earth, wherein they put the cloves, till such time as merchants come to carry them away. This tree is full of branches, and beareth many blossoms white at first, afterwards green, and at last red. The people there shake and beat the uppermost boughs of the tree having first made clean the place underneath: for no herb groweth near about it, because it draweth all the moisture of the earth to itself. And the cloves so shaken down are put to dry two or three days, and are then shut up till they be sold. That clove which sticketh still fast to the tree, doth wax great; yet differeth not from the rest, except in oldness: though some have held opinion that the greatest are of the male kind. This tree springeth of itself, out of one only corn of a clove, which hath fallen on the ground, and it endureth an hundred years, as the inhabitants report. The virtue of cloves is very great. For they are good for the liver, 
Of the property of Cloves.  the stomach, and the heart. They help digestion, and bind the flux of the belly. They clear the sight, consume and take away the web, and clouds in the eyes. They heat and dry to the third degree: they strengthen and open both together, and are very piercing. Being beaten to powder and drunk with wine, or the juice of Quinces, they stay vomitings; cause lost appetite to return; fortify the stomach and the head. They heat very well a cold liver. And for this cause they are ministered very profitably to such as have the dropsy, especially to those, who have water spread throughout all their body. The smell of them fetcheth those again that have swooned, and being chawed they sweeten the breath. They are good for such as are troubled with the falling sickness, with the palsy, and with the lethargy. Being eaten or taken in perfume, they preserve from the plague, and are very commodious for such as are subject to catarrhs, and for such as are stuffed in the nose, if they receive the smoke thereof into their nostrils. In brief their use is infinitely divers & profitable, both in physic and in our ordinary diet, whereby we restore nature. And sith we are in this talk, let it be your part (AMANA) to entreat of other trees bearing spices.   

Of trees and plants that bear Nutmegs, Ginger, and Pepper. Chap. 70.  AMANA. 
AMongst five kinds of nuts which the earth produceth, to wit, the common Nut, the Nut of India, Nux Metella, Nux vomica, and the Nutmeg, this is the most singular and of rarest virtue: which hath taken name from musk, by reason of the sweet and pleasant sent thereof. Now they who have traveled into India make great report, 
Of the Nutmeg tree.  that the trees which bear Nutmegs, do abundantly grow in an Isle named (Banda) and in many other Isles of the Moluccaes: and that it is as great, and as long branched as a walnut-tree with us: and that there is but small difference in the growing of nutmegs, and of common nuts. Moreover, this fruit is at first covered with two barks, whereof the outtermost is hairy or mossy, under which is a thin bloom, which like a net or fillet doth embrace and cover the nut, & is like a skaule or coif called (Mace) whereof there is great account made, and it is reckoned amongst the most precious and rarest spices: which we plainly see in those nutmegs that are brought whole from the Indies, being preserved in sugar or in juice of carrouges. The other bark which covereth the nutmeg is like the shell of an hazel nut, out of which they take it to bring unto us, which is very easy to do by reason that the time of ripening being come, this hard shell openeth and showeth an inward rind that environeth the nut about, which we call as aforesaid Mace: which at that time appeareth as red as scarlet; but when the nut is dry, it turns yellowish, & is thrice as dear as the nuts themselves. That which is more to be admired in this tree, is, that it beareth the fruit thereof, being so excellent, naturally without any industry or husbandry of man. Moreover, the best nuts are the newest (not rotten) the heaviest, fullest, most oily, & abounding in moisture, so that if one thrust a needle thereinto, there doth presently some juice issue. They are hot and dry in the second degree and restrictive. They make sweet breath being chewed, 
Property of the Nutmeg.  and take away all stinking smell thereof. They clear the sight, strengthen the stomach and liver; abate the swelling of the spleen, provoke urine, stay the flux of the belly, drive away ventosity, and are marvelous good against cold diseases in the womb. In sum, they have the same virtues that Cloves have. And when they are green or new, being bruised and well heated in a vessel, and then put into a press, there issueth a liquor, which being cold, is congealed like to new wax, and smelleth passing sweet, and is very excellent for old griefs of the sinews and joints engendered through cold.  
Now speak we of Ginger and other spices, 
Of Ginger.  which for the most part grow in the same regions of Asia, and especially in the Indies, and Molucca-isles, where Nutmegs abound. In them there is great quantity of Ginger, which is a root, not of such a plant as may properly be called a tree, but rather an herb, considering that it groweth not very high, but beareth leaves like a cane or reed, which do wax green twice or thrice a year. This root is very knotty, and not above three or four spans deep in the ground, and sometimes so big, that it weigheth a pound. They that dig up these roots, do always leave a space between two knots in the pit, and cover it again with earth as being the seed of this plant, to receive the fruit thereof the next ensuing year, that is the roots, which shall be newly sprouted. In calicut the green Ginger is steeped and conserved in sugar, or in a kind of honey that is taken out of certain cod or husks, and is conveyed into Italy, where it is much more esteemed than that of Venice. For that which is there is made of dry roots artificially mollified, 
Propertie of Ginger.  and which want much of their virtue and power. Moreover Ginger is very profitable: For it helpeth digestion, it looseneth the belly moderately, it is good for the stomach, and profitable against all things that may dim, or blind the sight. It heateth much, not at first tasting like pepper. For which cause we may not think it to consist of so subtle parts: the heat would else presently declare itself, and it would suddenly become hot in act. Whereupon Ginger is known to be composed of a gross and indigested substance, not dry and earthy, but moist and watery, which is the cause that it doth easily corrupt and rot, to wit, by reason of the superfluous moisture thereof. For such things as are very dry, or moistened by a digested, natural, and moderate humidity, are not subject to corruption and rottenness. Thence also it proceedeth, that the heat which cometh of Ginger doth endure longer than that of pepper. For as dry stubble is soon on fire, and soon burnt out: even so is the heat that proceedeth from simples, and dry drugs. But that which issueth from moist ones, as out of green wood, doth inflame slowlier, and endure longer.  

Of Pepper and the divers kinds thereof.  Pepper doth grow abundantly in the Indies, & especially in the two isles called (the greater, & lesser java) It doth grow upon little trees, the leaves whereof resemble much the leaves of a Citron-tree, the fruit whereof is no greater than a ball. And according to the divers places where Pepper groweth, it is different in kind: yea in one place there are divers sorts, and chief round & long Pepper. Now in some isles (as alongst the river Ganabara) when the inhabitants plant Pepper, they bury the root thereof near to some other fruit trees, and oftentimes near to young palms or date trees, upon the top whereof the twigs or scion's do at length grow. Which the rods and small branches pulled from pepper trees do likewise, being planted with the same trees, which they embrace running to the very top of them: where the pepper hangs in clusters, like the grapes of a wild vine, but closer, and thicker. And when it is ripe they gather it, and lay it in the sun to dry upon lattises made of palm trees, till such time as it become black and wrinkled, which is commonly done in three days. And this pepper is round. But the trees that bear long pepper do differ from the rest especially in leaves and fruit: For the leaves are sharper at the end, and the pepper hangeth upon the tree like clusters of nuts, made and heaped with many little grains. There is yet another kind of pepper, called (Ethiopian pepper) or (pepper of the Negroes) which groweth in cod like beans, or pease: and the grains thereof are a little less than those of black pepper. Moreover all pepper is hot in the fourth degree, and therefore it burneth and blistereth the body, so that the use thereof cannot but be dangerous, though it have many secret properties against the quiverings and shake that accompany fevers, which usually come to one; and against the cough, and all maladies of the breast. There is also a kind of watery pepper, which groweth near to slow waters, that run but softly. The stalk thereof is knotty, massive, having many pits, out of which the branches do grow. The leaves of it are like to mints, saving that they be greater, softer, and whiter. The seed is sharp and strong, and groweth upon little twigs near to the leaves in manner of grapes. It is so named of the places where it groweth, and the likeness of taste, which it hath with common pepper. But we have spoken enough concerning spices. Let us now consider of other most rare and singular trees, the wonder whereof declareth the author of nature to be exceeding admirable, as we may note (ARAM) by your discourse.   

Of the Date-tree, of the Baratha or tree of India, of the Gehuph and of Brasill. Chap. 71.  ARAM. 
THose Portugals, Spaniards, and some Frenchmen that in our time have navigated through the Atlantic sea towards the south, and from thence towards the cast unto Calicut, Taprobana, and other isles of the Indian sea, and regions unknown to ancient Cosmographers, do make credible report unto us of so many divers singularities which they have beheld, that we should be too ungrateful towards them, if so often as we behold any of them in their writings, we should not attribute praise unto them for their laudable curiosity, which hath urged them to such discoveries, considering that they are like so many mirrors, to represent unto us that great Architect of nature, who amongst the very Barbarians hath engraven images of himself in every work of his omnipotency. Now among such trees as they have written of, and which (as me seemeth) are worthy of greatest admiration, although they be not altogether so rare as many others, the Date-trees require place, which are very common in Arabia, Egypt, and almost in all parts of Africa, and in judaea, as likewise in many Isles of Greece, and regions of Europe (where they bear no fruit, 
Of the Date-tree.  which is not so throughout all Africa) for the Palms, or Date-trees bear in many places a sweet, pleasant and very delicate fruit to eat, and this tree is very high, and hath the stock thereof very hard, bearing no branches but round about the top, with the ends of them hanging down to the ground-wards. It buddeth forth many blossoms, hanging at certain fine small stalks, clustered together in figure like to clusters of saffron, but much less, and white: and of those are form reddish Dates, which have a very hard, long, and crested stone within them. And there are of these trees male and female; which are discerned, in that the female buddeth without blossoms, 
Marvel of the female palm-tree.  or flowers. And that which is most admirable in this diversity of kind, is, that the female being separated from the male, will hang down her branches and whither, turning herself that way, whither her male hath been carried: so that the inhabitants of the country fearing to lose her, take of the earth and of the root of the male, which they lay about the foot of the female, who through this means springeth, reneweth strength, and beareth fruit. It is noted in Date-trees that there are some, which naturally follow the Sun, which way so ever he turneth, as many other plants do, which having a sympathy and secret inclination to this star, as acknowledging his virtue, and that their vigour is derived from him, do always behold him, they themselves losing colour, when he is far off from them. And this is also very wonderful in the Date tree, that being dead, it reviveth of itself, by means of the proper roots thereof, which being (very deep under ground) maintained by the radical humour, there do at length spring out of them certain stalks, which are afterwards sustained by the Sun, there nourished and made trees, 
Drink that distilleth out of the Date-tree.  bearing fruit as before. Moreover out of the trunk of Date-trees, many people (especially the Negroes) do extract a liquor (which they use for beverage in stead of wine) by making a large slit therein with a certain instrument a foot or two above the earth. And this liquor is of the colour of whey, very good to drink, and almost as much inebriating or as strong as wine, for which cause, it must be very oftentimes mixed with water. And when it runneth out of the stock, it is as sweet as new wine: but it looseth that sweetness from day to day, becoming more pleasant to drink, when it tasteth somewhat more tart, because it doth then slake thirst best. They also draw out of this tree certain threads as fine as our thread, 
Tapestry made of Palm trees.  whereof they make tapistry work, which serve like other things to cover them: which need not seem very strange, considering that in many other places they beat the barks of some trees so hard (after they have wet it) that they do draw it out so fine, and weave it so artificially, as one would suppose it to be some fair and thin taffeta. Such as have sailed to Manicongo, and along the coast of Ethiopia, do assure us thereof in their writings. For if that cotton cometh from trees, and silk is spun by worms (as all men know) what should hinder the foresaid things to be of such ability through the ordinance of God established in nature, to the end that men might receive from these plants, that which is needful for them, and which they cannot obtain by the means that are common to others? But if any make doubt thereof, because it is not notoriously known unto all, then must we shut the door against all things that seem rare. But what shall we say to that, which is taught us by many grave Authors, that of the fruit of these trees, called (the Theban Date) being dried in the sun, till such time as it may be ready to be ground, 
Bread made of Dates.  men use to make bread, which is a common practice amongst those of that country? Moreover, for the particular virtues and properties of Dates, they are so much different, 
Propertie of Dates.  as there be divers kinds of them: for some are dry and binding (as those of Egypt) others are soft, moist, and sweet (as those that grow in Syria, Palestina, and jericho.) And the rest are in mean betwixt these two kinds: and all are hard in digestion, and breed headache. Some say that two green dates (having their stones taken out, and then filled up with powder of Vermilion) being eaten, do keep women with child that they may not abort: and that being dried they be good to eat by such as spit blood, to such as have a weak stomach, and are troubled with the bloody flux.  
Now let us speak of a tree, 
Of a tree serving for bread, oil, wine, and vinegar.  that doth much resemble the Date-tree, and is no less worthy of wonder than it, because it serveth for bread, wine, oil, and vinegar. This tree is called by the Arabians (Baratha) and of some (jansialindi) which is as much to say, as, the Indian tree, and the Indians name it (Trican) and the fruit thereof (Nihor) or Cocco. It is found in many islands of India, chief in Zamat, and in the circumiacent Isles, where the people live upon the fruit of this tree, which fruit is as big as a man's head: and is that, which we term (An Indie Nut.) The outtermost bark of this tree is all green, and above two fingers thick: amongst which they find certain fillets, whereof they make cords, wherewith the inhabitants of the country sow their boats together. Within this bark is another, which they burn and beat to dust: afterwards they use this powder as a medicine for their sick. Under this second bark again is a certain white pith covered, which is about a finger thick, and this they eat in stead of bread, with flesh and fish. And to make it the better, they dry it first, and then bring it into meal, and make very good bread thereof, as the ancients in old time made of Acorns and of chestnuts, for want of corn. In the midst of this pith they find a very clear, sweet, and cordial water, which being curdled, and converted into an oily substance, they boil it, and then this mixture becomes so fat, as the best butter that can be made amongst us. But if they would have vinegar, they set this water in the sun without making it to boil, and it will become clear and sharp, and as white as milk. For their drinking liquor, it runs out of the branches in great abundance. And two of these trees suffice for the nourishment of an whole family. Furthermore, their fruit is hot in the second degree, and moist in the first. 
Propertie of Indie Nuts.  There is oil drawn out of it very good against the hemorrhoids, and which healeth the pains of the reins and of the knees, and purgeth the belly of worms. This Indie-Nut bringeth also men's bodies into a good fat estate, and restoreth lean and consumed persons.  

A tree named Gehuph.  In the Isles of the Malucoes, especially in Taprobana doth likewise grow a tree of a marvelous property and effect, which is named in their language (Gehuph) and of the Indians (Cobban) It groweth very high, but the leaves thereof are small. The bark is all yellow, and the fruit big and round like a ball, having a nut enclosed within it, wherein is found a marvelous bitter kernel: the taste whereof upon the tongue doth near approach to the savour of Angelica-roote; the fruit is very good to staunch thirst, the kernel (for all it is so bitter) doth much surpass it in sweetness through the excellency thereof. For they of the country do make an oil, which they keep carefully, because it is very good against the pain of the liver, and spleen, whether it be taken inwards, or outwardly applied to the diseased part. They keep them also from the cramp. This tree likewise yieldeth a certain gum, whereof they use plasters against all pains of their members.  
But amongst many singular trees, found out in our days in the South in the wild country, that is one, which doth serve to die with, which hath been a great commodity to merchants, and a means of new voyages for such, as had accustomed to go to sea: who entering into those countries, when they beheld the Savages decked with many fair plumes of divers colours, and that they had their bodies likewise diversly painted, they made inquiry by what means they became so coloured: 
Of Brasill, and other trees sit for tincture.  who showed them a certain tree, which we name (Brasill) and the Savages call (Oravoutan). This tree is very fair to look upon, having the outer rind of grayish colour, and the wood within red, and especially the heart, which is the most excellent part of all the tree: and therewith merchants do chief furnish themselves. This tree hath leaves like the Box tree, as small, but thicker, and fuller, and always green: and it beareth not any fruit, or gum. That which groweth in the land of Morpion, and at Cabo Frio, is better than any other. And there also is great store and quantity of other trees serving for tincture, and every one of a sundry colour. One is so red, that it imitateth in fresh colour the finest scarlet of the world. Another hath the inside so yellow, as nothing can be seen to approach nearer the pure colour thereof. Some are all black, and others radish: and there are some of so fair a purple colour, as the ancients never used fairer. Moreover there is found a tree as white as fine paper, marvelous fair, and very pleasant to behold: which might have been very good, in times past, to make tablets to write in, then when men were ignorant of the use of paper. In fine we have no colour, be it simple, or compound, whereof there be not some trees to represent it naturally in the country of Savages. But here let us leave strange trees, and speak somewhat of our ordinary trees. And because that the history of them were sufficient to make up a very great volume, we will content ourselves to consider upon a few of such, as shall seem to us most fit for our purpose, that we may conclude the discourse of this day, and of this matter together: as you (ACHITOB) shall presently perform.   

Of the Citron-tree, Limon-tree, Orange-tree, Olive-tree, and Pomegranate-tree. Chap. 72.  ACHITOB. 
BEcause that Citron-trees, Limon-trees, and Orange-trees, do prosper best in an hot and moist air, in a thin & tender soil, near to the sea side, and where moisture aboundeth, they do not only abound in our Europe, but also in many places of Asia and Africa, and in the Isles of the Savages which have been discovered in our days. Now these three kind of trees have like agreeableness of nature, and do resemble each other in property and virtue, 
Of the Citron-tree.  and therefore require one manner of culture. The Citron-tree is as great as the Orange-tree and Limon-tree: and the leaves thereof are always green, differing little or nothing from those of the Orange-tree, being all of them pierced through with such little holes, that they can scarce be discerned. The branches thereof be flexible, clad with a green bark, & thorny. It beareth blossoms somewhat purple, of the fashion of a bell, having some fillets hanging in the midst of them, & they have fruit at all times. For when the ripe citrons fall, there be others that wax ripe, & others that begin to bud. But there is very great difference in this fruit, both in bigness and in taste. For there are some as big as Melons, as those are upon the coast of Genoa, & in the isles of the Adriatic and Egean seas. Some are a little less: others are as great as Lemons, or a little greater, as are those of the Lake of Garda, which are better with meat then all the rest, and taste more pleasantly. And for the biggest, being not so good to eat (because they have more substance) they are fit for Apothecaries to conserve them in sugar or in honey. All of them bear the colour of gold; they are long like Lemons, having a thicker rind, wrinkled without, and of a sweet smell. They have a sharp pith within, full of juice, in which the grain is hidden, in figure like to barley corns, being covered with an hard peel, and of bitter taste. They grow all the year long, and are gathered when they be yellow. Moreover these trees are nourished by the south wind, but are annoyed by northern blasts. They are sowed in their grains, and planted in twigs, boughs and graffs. 
Propertie of Citrons.  The property of their fruit is to resist poisons, which their grain doth chief effect. And the decoction of citrons doth sweeten the breath, if one wash his mouth with it. Being put whole into chests with apparel, they do not only cause them to smell sweet, but do also defend them from moths. If they be eaten raw, they are of hard digestion, and engender gross humours: but having been confected in honey or sugar, they heat the stomach well, and fortify it. They are good against melancholy, and all maladies proceeding thereof. The grain is especially good against the stinging of serpents, being taken in drink, and applied outwardly. Their sharp juice doth repress choler, and is very good against the plague: by means whereof physicians do happily use the syrup which is made of it against pestilent fevers. Likewise the sharp and dry quality ruleth in the juice of citrons, and therefore it is dry and cold in the third degree: but the rind thereof is dry, with much bitterness: so that it is dry in the second degree, not cold, but temperate, a little differing from the mean. Their meat is of gross and phlegmatic substance, and their kernel bitter, and loosening, heating, and drying in the second degree. If a citron be boiled whole in rose water and sugar, till such time as it be all consumed into juice, and if one take every morning to the quantity of a spoonful of this juice, it will be a sovereign preservative against the plague.  
Lemons also have the very same property, and their juice killeth the itch of the body, it cleanseth the spots thereof, 
Of Lemons.  destroyeth worms, taketh away pimples in the face, killeth worms in the belly, and being mingled with syrup, it is singular good against hot and contagious fevers. This same juice is of so strong and piercing virtue, that if you power it out twice or thrice fresh, and wash whole pearls therewith, steeping them in it, and afterwards expose them to the sun, they will within five or six days become as soft as honey, in such sort that you may fashion them how you list. Likewise if you steep for certain hours gold therein, it will diminish in weight. In brief, lemons do not much differ from the virtue and nature of citrons: but they are commonly somewhat less, longer, and not of so thick a rind, fuller of juice, sharper in taste, almost alike in seed, of colour pale.  
Oranges are more round, and being ripe they have a very orient golden colour, 
Of Oranges, and of their fruit.  their peel is thicker than that of lemons, and more bitter. The juice within, whereof they be full, is not in all of one taste; for some are sweet, some sour, and some tart. Orange-trees are always green like citron-trees. They have leaves like laurel, broad, thick, smooth, sweet, and pointed. Their branches likewise are flexible, pricklie, and covered with a green whitish coloured bark. Their blossoms are white, of a very excellent smell, and are diligently gathered by perfumers, where there is any quantity, for the composition of perfumes. Some also distill water of them, not only for the excellency of the smell thereof, but also to serve in medicine, especially against pestilent fevers, which cause blisters. Being taken in drink, it is very profitable when need requireth to have infected humours evacuated out of the inner part of the body to the outtermost part by sweatings: for this water doth cause much sweeting, and doth greatly comfort the heart. The peel of oranges is hotter, sharper, and bitterer in taste then that of citrons and lemons. And sweet oranges are hot in all parts: but the juice of all others is cold, and resisteth corruption. Wherefore they are good against fevers, which the sweet are not. Moreover their juice pressed out of the rind doth easily inflame: and doth also penetrate through great tenuity within a glass, even to the wine therein contained.  

Of the Olive-tree.  The olive-tree also is excellent amongst trees, and doth require a warm and temperate air as is that of Provence. It is planted of twigs, & fair and fruitful young branches pulled from off the boughs of the tree, being very thick, and of a foot and half long. Olive-trees have long pointed leaves, thick, smooth, green above, and whitish underneath, bitter in taste, and somewhat sharp. They bud in julie, and have white flowers hanging in clusters, out of which grow the fruit, green at first, and as they ripen paler; then wax they purple, and at last turn black. They are gathered in the latter months of the year, being no sooner ripe. They are strewed upon the floor, till such time as they become wrinkled. Afterwards they are ground, and then put into the press with hot water, and so they yield their oil. The wood of the olive-tree is fair, full of veins, speckled, massy, and burneth as well green as drie. It is in no wise subject to vermin, especially so long as it is planted, because of the odour thereof which is strong, yea it defendeth all other plants therefrom, which are near unto it, as likewise through the bitterness thereof it causeth Cabbages and lettuce to die, and all other moist herbs, which are sowed in the plot with it. 
Of the use of Olives.  olives are gathered for two occasions, either that oil may be extracted out of them, or that they may be reserved for banquets, wherein they are served to excite the appetite: but all kinds of olives do not serve indifferently for these two uses: for the greatest are best to eat, and the least to draw oil out of. They which are kept for feasts are conserved in brine, and salted vinegar, in such sort as they retain their natural verdure. For the property of the olive, it hath in it a very restringent virtue; for the decoction of the leaves in a clyster, stayeth the flux of the belly: and the juice pressed out of the leaves with white wine and rain water, restraineth all manner of bloody flux. The liquor which distilleth out of the green wood as it burneth, healeth the itch, tetters, and ringwormes. New olives being eaten provoke the appetite, and get a good stomach, although they harden the belly. Being very ripe they are moderately hot, otherwise they are more binding and cooling. The oil that is extracted out of olives is of singular virtue, being either applied outwardly, or taken inwardly, according to the indisposed parts of the body: it looseneth and mollifieth the belly, dulleth the malice of poisons, and doth subtly drive them away, yea if any venom or burning happen on the skin of the body, and begin to make an ulcer or sore there, nothing is better to heal this hurt, then to anoint it with new fresh oil of olives.  
The Pomegranate tree also is to be no less esteemed of, 
Of the Pomegranate tree, and of the fruit thereof.  than the forenamed trees, because of the excellency of the fruit thereof. The leaves of it resemble those of the Olive-tree, of a darck-greene colour, very thick, and full of many red streaks, hanging by a red stalk. The branches are pliable, and full of prickles. The blossoms red, and open like bells, the mouth of them cut in fashion of a star: out of which proceed thin red leaves, with certain small seeds hanged by the midst, like them in a rose. The fruit is covered with a rind like unto leather, red without, and yellow within, full of infinite pointed grains, red, full of a wine-like juice, with a stone in them. And these grains are separated one from another with marvelous cunning of nature, by fine thin yellow skins. Moreover there are three sorts of Pomegranates, sweet, sharp, and winie. And the quality of them all is restringent, but not alike. For by their taste you may judge of their difference. And their grains are more binding & drying, than their juice: the rind more than the grains; and the blossoms have the same virtue with the fruit. And the powder of a Pomegranate, dried in an oven, in a new earthen pot close stopped, being taken in drink, is marvelous singular to stay the flux of the belly. The leaves also of a Pomegranate tree well beaten, or the juice of them mixed with oil of roses, doth very much ease inueterated pains of the head, being often laid to the forehead. The boughs of this tree do chase away venomous beasts; for which cause the ancients were wont to lay them over, and under their beds. The decoction of the root being drunk, doth also kill great worms in the belly, and doth voided them out. Now have we said enough concerning trees for the subject by us undertaken: To morrow we will discourse of the most singular herbs and roots, to the end that in each sort of all kinds of creatures, we may have somewhat wherein to acknowledge in the chiefest manner the infinite power, and unspeakable bounty of him, who hath made all these things for the use of man. It shallbe then your charge (ASER) to begin to entreat concerning simples.  
The end of the ninth days work.    

THE TENTH DAYS WORK.  

Of Mallows, Wild Mallows, Purple Violets, betony, Ceterach, and Saint johnsworte. Chapter 73.  ASER. 
THE knowledge of Simples hath always been had in such estimation amongst the Ancients, that many great Monarches both Grecians and Romans', although they were much troubled in the government of their estates, have nevertheless studied how to obtain this science, and to illustrate it. For indeed it is not only pleasant and delectable, but also very profitable and necessary. And for this cause they have been much commended who have diligently written books concerning plants, and concerning the virtues of them. And surely we are not a little beholding to their diligence, by reason of the commodities that do thereby redound unto us daily for the maintenance of our health, which is the thing most to be desired of us in all the world. For so much then as we have so many goodly volumes amongst us, that all persons may thereby with small travel become learned in this part of physic, which is abundantly therein entreated of, we will satisfy ourselves to pass away this day in discoursing only concerning the most singular herbs and roots, which we could therein note, and as we yet do bear in memory.  
All herbs may be divided into two kinds, one is under the name of potherbs, the other of phisick-herbes: although in very truth, there is in all of them, yea in many of those which are most common, very apt and proper virtues for the aid and maintenance of health, and healing of diseases. But omitting those which are used in common food, and which are well known to every man, we will only speak of the most excellent in property, in respect of their marvelous effects in the nature of men. Amongst which, although Mallows be very common, yet are they worthy of consideration. 
Of Mallows and of their property.  And we read that the ancients did sow this plant in their gardens of deliberate purpose: for in those days they did eat them like other ordinary herbs. And even to this day in Italy, they are so well ordered by the gardiner's, that they will grow as big as a shrub, yea in six or seven months. We need not make here a particular description of Mallows; for there is none but knoweth them well enough: but their virtue is very admirable: for their leaves sod, being eaten do take away all hoarseness; and being powned with sage leaves, they make a singular plaster for wounds & other inflammations: they are also very good against bitings of venomous beasts being applied with leeks and onions: and the juice of them dropped in one's ear, appeaseth the tingling therein. Being sod roots and all, till such time as the decoction be all very thick and clammy, they are given to women (to drink) who are delivered of their children with great difficulty; which helps them much: and the juice drunk to the quantity of half a pound weight, doth profit them as much. Their seed also drunk with red wine, doth deliver one from all desire to vomit. And their young and tender stalks being eaten with salt, vinegar, & oil (as Sparage also) are very healthful & laxative. Six ounces of their juice being drunk, is very good for melancholy people, and for mad-folks. In brief the Mallow is very profitable in many things, and was for that cause called by the ancients (Omnimorbia) that is to say, good against all diseases.  

Of the wild Mallow, and the property thereof.  The wild Mallow hath no fewer properties, and was therefore called by the Greeks' (Althaea) as being singular amongst all simples, and fit for many medicines: the use thereof being very ordinary in physic: and it is a common herb known by every one. Being sod in wine, or in honeyed water, or beaten, and applied alone, it is good for all wounds, against the king's evil, against worms in the ear, impostumes, inflammation of the breast, rapture of the fundament, ventosities, and shrincking of the sinews: for it resolveth, ripeneth, breaketh, and healeth. The leaves thereof incorporated with oil are good to apply to all bitings, and burnings by fire: the seed and root of this plant have the same operation with the leaf: but they are more subtle, and more drying and abstersive. The seed is good against the Dysenteria, against spitting of blood, and flux of the belly: and so also is the decoction of the root. And both of them serve greatly for difficulty in making water, for gravel in the body, and do break the stone in the reins. I must not fail here, to remember amongst the most excellent herbs, the purple violet, 
Of the Purple-violet, and virtue thereof.  for because of the admirable virtues, which it containeth. I will not speak of the rare beauty of the flower thereof, nor of the sweet and pleasant smell thereof, though it be to be marveled at. But we may affirm it to be as excellent and singular a medicine, as may be found in any part of the world. For violets are temperate, and very good to alter and change the ill quality of humours, and to evacuate them. They chief purge choler, and qualify the vehemency thereof. They are good for pains in the head which proceed from heat: they cause sleepiness: mollify the pricking of the breast, and of the lungs: they are profitable against the squinancy, against the falling of the pallet in the mouth: they chief serve against inflammations of the breast, and of the side: and staunch thirst. Being dry they open the liver, cause inflammations to cease, and are very fit against the jaundice. Moreover the juice of Violets, and the syrup that is made of them, mollify the belly, and they be good to use in pleurisies, to purge. And if any one receive a blow upon the head, he shallbe kept from dizzines, and other greater inconveniences, if soon after he is strooken, he drink the flowers of Violets brayed, and use this drink for some time. It is also a singular, and gentle purgation and of no less virtue than Cassia; if you drink so much of the infusion of the roots of Violets in white wine as you can hold in four fingers, after they have been beaten in a mortar, being steeped a whole night in wine, and afterwards strained through a clean linen cloth, which drink you may sweeten by putting sugar therein. This secret was taught me by a learned physician of our time, and I have oftentimes seen the experience thereof.  
Betonie is likewise an herb that is stored with many great virtues and properties. For which cause the Italians, 
Of betony and the property thereof.  when they would highly praise any one, say in a common proverb (Tuhai piu virtu, che non ha la Betonica) Thou art endued with more virtues, than Betonie is. This herb hath a small stalk, and in many places is found of a cubit in height: having leaves like an oak, soft, long, cut round about, of sweet smell, great near to the root, and the seed thereof at top of the stalk looks like that of savoury. Now for the property of this plant; the leaves thereof brayed and laid to wounds in the head, do presently search them, and healing them from day to day, it is not long ere they fortify the hurt part. Being beaten and applied to the forehead, they heal the pain of the eyes: which likewise the decoction of the root doth, being sod in water, till one third part be consumed, if you wash your eyes therewith. The juice of the leaves being drunk, doth purge downwards that blood, the great abundance whereof doth dazzle and dim the sight. Wherefore Betonie being eaten doth sharpen and clarify it. And being beaten with a very little salt, and put into the nostrils, it stauncheth bleeding at the nose. And the warm juice being distilled with oil of roses, and put into the ears, doth assuage the pain of them. The use of this herb is very profitable for those, which are pained at the stomach, and have short breath, who spit corruption, who have pain in their liver and spleen, and are troubled with running of the rains; it provoketh urine, easeth the gnawing of the belly and guts (if it proceed not from increasing of humours) and is very good against dropsies, breaketh the stone, stayeth the spitting of blood; and taken fasting, keepeth from drunkenness; being drunk often with wine, it healeth the jaundice, refresheth those that have traveled far, sharpeneth the appetite, resisteth poisons, venims, and bitings of serpents, and all other venomous and mad beasts; being not only taken inwardly, but also applied outwardly to the wounds. In sum this plant hath so many properties therein, that a very learned physician amongst the ancients hath written a whole book thereof. 
Anton. Musa.   

Of Ceterach, and the virtue thereof.  Ceterach hath many virtues of betony, it groweth on walls and old ruins, and upon rocks, and in shady places. It hath neither stalk, flower, nor seed, but hath many leaves growing out of a root, which are cut like those of mountain Polipodie, red and hairy underneath, and green above. The decoction of this herb is good for all melancholy passions, it consumeth spleen, is profitable for those that can hardly make water, breaketh the stone in the bladder, and is good for them that have the jaundice. Some bray Ceterach leaves, to lay them having been steeped in wine upon the spleen, which serveth well for to open it. The yellow powder which is found behind those leaves being drunk with a little white Amber, and with the juice of Plantain or of Purslane, is marvelous profitable for those that are troubled with running of the reins.  
Saint johns-woort also is a very excellent herb. It is full of branches of a span in height, reddish, bearing a leaf like to Rue, 
Of Saint john's wort, and the property thereof.  having a yellow flower like to a violet; which being rubbed betwixt the fingers, yieldeth juice as red as blood. This plant is called Millepertuis (or thousand holes) because the leaves of it are all full of so small holes, that one can scarce see them, but only betwixt their sight and the sun. It beareth seed in rough, round, and somewhat long husks. This herb hath power to open, resolve, search, and bind again. It heateth and drieth, and is of subtle substance; wherefore it provoketh urine. The seed thereof being drunk with wine, voideth the stone out of the body, and resisteth poisons both the seed, and herb being eaten or taken in drink, or outwardly applied, healeth envenomed bitings. The water distilled of this herb when it beareth flower, is singular good for those that are subject to the falling sickness, or are troubled with the palsy; if it be given them to drink. The seed being beaten into powder with the juice of Renouée, is good against spitting of blood. It purgeth the belly: the flowers and seed also have a marvelous virtue to heal all wounds, except such as are in the head. Wherefore the oil, wherein the flowers and cod full of seed shall have been long time steeped in the sun, doth heal very well all green wounds, especially if it be mixed with Turpentine. If the belly be rubbed with this oil, it is good against the Dysenteria: and a spoonful thereof being drunk killeth the worms. There is a singular balm made of the flowers thereof, with the fruit of an elm and rosebuds, putting all together in a glass bottle, and setting it in the sun, till such time as all be so consumed that it seemeth to be putrefied: then must all be strained through a cloth, and kept so to be used, chiefly for wounds and hurts of the body. Now (AMANA) do you prosecute our discourse concerning Simples.   

Of Celondine, Cammocke, Wormwood, Hyssop, Sage, and Mints. Chap. 74.  AMANA. 

Of Celondine and of the properties thereof.  IN the description of plants, we find that there is mention made of two kinds of Celondine, otherwise called (Clarie) either of them endued with many virtues. That which is called great Celondine, hath a slender stalk of a cubit long, and hath leaved branches. The leaves thereof are soft and green, somewhat inclining towards a blue. The flower resembleth that of the white Violet, which buddeth out according to the order of every leaf. It beareth long and slender cod, made pointed, wherein the seed is enclosed. This herb is of a very abstersive and hot quality. The juice thereof is very good to take out spots, and the pin and web in the eyes: but because it is very sharp, you must before you apply it, mix it with those things that may repress the sharpness thereof, as namely with woman's milk: being put into hollow teeth, it looseneth them that they fall out. If you rub warts therewith, they fall off and dry up. The decoction of the root being drunk with anise seed and white wine, doth heal the jaundice, and is good for eating ulcers, and being chewed it assuageth the pain in the teeth. Some make report, that swallows cause their young ones to recover lost sight, by applying this herb unto them: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and that for this occasion it derived the name thereof from a Greek word, which signifieth a Swallow; as being very well known by these birds, and commodious for them. Some Alchemists say for (Chelidonium) (Celidonium) that is (the gift of heaven) vaunting that they can extract out of this herb a quintessence, not only fit for their purposes, but profitable also to conserve the health of man, and to heal many diseases. Celondine the less is without stalk, 
Of Celondine the less.  the leaves are round and thick, the flower yellow, hanging at a small stalk. It keepeth but a very little while: for it springeth and dieth in the Spring-time. And it is so named, because it beareth flower in that season, when swallows come in, as also great clary doth. It is hot and dry in the fourth degree full, because of the great sharpness thereof. And therefore so soon as it is applied, it breaketh the skin, and causeth bad nails to fall off. The juice thereof snuffed up into the nose, doth greatly purge the brain. And a gargarism made of the decoction thereof with honey, hath the same virtue, and evacuateth all evil humours in the breast.  
Cammocke (or Restharrow) hath also many singular properties. It is a plant well known by countryfolks, 
Of Cammock and the property thereof.  because that as well with the branches, as with the interlaced roots, it oftentimes stayeth the plough, maugre the oxen. It also vexeth mowers and reapers much. For how thick leather soever they wear, yet will this pierce through like an aul, & as with needles wherewith it is armed being ripe. This herb hath many branches of a span long, turned with many knots; the leaves thereof are small and slender like unto the leaves of lentils, approaching very near to the form of Rue, somewhat hairy, and of a reasonable sweet sent. The branches are full of very sharp and strong prickles. The flower is purple, inclining to white, and sometimes yellow. Amongst other properties that this plant hath, it is above all most singular in the root thereof for to break the stone in the reins and to void it out, especially when the conduits through which the urine passeth are stopped up. Some that have used for a very long time, to take the powder of the peel of this root with wine, have been helped of the stone. And according to the testimony of Mathiolus: A certain man having used for many months together of the powder only of this root, did help and heal himself of the burstnes in the cod, after that all physicians had given him over, except they might cut him as they had concluded. The decoction also of this root, and water that hath been distilled, cleanseth the reins of gravel, provoketh urine, purgeth the bladder, the mouth thereof being stopped up with clammy humours, and is singular good to open the liver, and all vessels of sense, life and motion. To make this water, you must take four pound of the rinds of green roots: and being cut small, set them a steep in eight pounds of malmsey, or of good wine, then distill them in a glass limbeck in balneo Mariae.  
Wormwood is almost infinite in admirable virtues. 
Of Wormwood, and of the property thereof.  It produceth a branched stalk with whitish leaves, very much cut like those of Mugwort, small yellow flowers & round seed heaped in clusters. This plant is marvelous fit for inflammations of the liver and stomach. It is very profitable for such as are sick of the dropsy, if they often take the leaves thereof confected in sugar. Wormwood is of restringent quality, bitter & sharp altogether being hot, abstersive, comfortable & drying. And therefore it purgeth downwards, and driveth into the urine all choleric humours. It doth most principally comfort the stomach, and for this cause wine was made thereof called by the same name: of the tops thereof is a decoction made with the root of Dandelion, which is very good to heal the jaundice. The juice of wormwood mixed with the kernel of a peach killeth worms. This herb provoketh urine: being taken fasting it preserveth from drunkenness: doth sharpen the appetite: it is a sovereign remedy for those that are subject to stuff by eating toad-stooles, if they drink the juice thereof, with vinegar. Being taken with wine it is good against poison, with milk and home it is good to rub them that are troubled with the squinancy. The fume of the decoction thereof caseth pains in teeth and in the ears. And being made in wine of raisins, it assuageth the pain of the eyes if they be anointed therewith. Being laid with oil of roses upon a stomach weakened through long sickness, it doth fortify it: with figs, vinegar, and meal of darnel it is good against the dropsy, and for those that are grieved in their spleen. Wormwood put into chests defendeth apparel from worm-eating. There is a conserve made with a pound of the tops of this plant, and with three pounds of sugar, which may heal an old and despaired dropsy, if it be often used.  

Hyssop and the property thereof.  Hyssop is a common plant, but worthy of great consideration, it is like a shrub sprouting many wooden branches out of the root, of a foot and half high. The leaves are set every where about the stalks here and there, being long, hard, sweet in smell, hot in taste, and somewhat bitter. It beareth flowers on the top of the stalk of a blue colour, like ears of corn. The quality of hyssop is piercing, attenuative, opening and abstersive: and therefore it hath the virtue to heat and to purify. Being sod with figs, water, honey and rue, and taken in drink, it is good for inflammations of the lungs, for an old cough, difficulty of breathing, catarrhs, and for those which cannot breathe except they stand still: and it is good also to kill worms in the belly. Being beaten with salt and cumin, it is good against bitings of serpents, if it be laid thereupon with honey. It is profitable for those that are subject to the falling sickness, being ministered in any sort unto them. Being taken in drink it voideth phlegm, and chief that which is in the breast and lungs. It serveth also for phlegmatic maladies of the brain and sinews, not only to purge them, but also to fortify them. It driveth away ventosity, moveth appetite, provoketh urine, freeth from quake and shake of fevers, and sharpeneth the sight. It maintaineth good colour in one, and is good for the spleen, and against the dropsy, and is singular against squinancies, being gargarised with the decoction of figs. The oil that is made of the leaves and flowers, helpeth refrigerated or benumbed sinews, and strengtheneth them. In brief the admirable virtues of this plant have begotten this proverb, (He that eateth hyssop shall live but too long.) But the plenty thereof that is every where, causeth (even as it is with all other common things) that it is made but small account of, and is very seldom used in physic.  
Sage also is very common, so that there is no garden but is filled therewith: yet the virtue thereof is not a whit less, 
Of Sage, and the property thereof.  as is daily experimented, to the great profit of many. It hath many long, square, and white branches. The leaves are like those of a quince tree, but more long, more rough, more thick, sharp, strong, of good smell, and yet somewhat unpleasant. Many make two kinds of sage, common sage, and wild sage. But we may note that garden sage is all one with field sage: neither can much difference be marked in them, save in the leaves, which are thinner, whiter, and rougher in wild then in garden sage. This plant is very singular against all cold and phlegmatic diseases in the head, and against all pains of the joints, either being taken in drink, or applied in fomentations. Wherefore it is very good for them who have the falling disease, or are sick of the lethargy, and for those that have their members benumbed or senseless. It is profitable against defluxions of phlegm, and maladies in the breast. It is good for great bellied women to eat, which are subject to travel before their time, for every light cause: for it keepeth the child in the womb, and doth quicken it. If you give three or four ounces of the juice of sage to them that spit blood, that they may drink it fasting in a morning with honey, the blood will presently be stayed. The use of sage in pottage, and otherwise serveth to sharpen the appetite, and cleanse the stomach being full of ill humours. In sum, when occasion is to heat, dry, and bind, sage is a very good and fit medicine.  

Of Mints, and their property.  Mints have likewise many great properties, and are very common, both in gardens and fields. Whereof though there be many kinds (for some have small and crisped leaves, others have the stalk and flower red, and others white) yet is there no great matter to be made of these differences, considering that one self same virtue resideth in all. Mints beaten, and made into a plaster do comfort a weak stomach. It is a sovereign thing to restore the smell, and feeling to those that have lost it, so that it be often held to the nose. The leaves thereof dried, and brought into powder, kill worms in little children. The juice drunk with vinegar, stauncheth blood; with the juice of a sour pomegranate it restraineth vomitings, hickets, and the colic passion. Mints laid upon the forehead assuage the headache: and laid upon too tender dugs that are full of milk, it easeth the pain of them: applied with salt it is good for bitings by dogs, and with honeyed water it is good against pains in the ears. The water of the whole plant distilled in a glasse-limbecke in a bath of hot water, and drunk to the weight of four ounces, stayeth bleeding at nose. They that love milk, must presently after they have eaten thereof, chew mint leaves, to hinder the milk that it do not curdle in their stomach: if also you sprinkle cheese with the juice thereof, or with the decoction thereof, it will keep from corrupting and rottenness. Now I refer to you (ARAM) the sequel of this discourse.   

Of Thyme, Savoury, Marierom, Rue, Parsley, and Fennell. Chap. 75.  ARAM. 

Of Thyme and the property thereof.  AMongst common herbs admirable in their properties, Thyme is worthy to be noted. Now there are two sorts thereof; one bearing sundry twigs laden with very many little narrow leaves, having small heads at the top full of purple flowers: and the other is as hard as wood, more branched, and like unto Savoury. In property it is hot, and dry in the third degree. And therefore it provoketh urine, doth heat, and being taken in drink doth purge the entrails. It is good to make one spit out the ill-humours of the lungs, and in the breast. Four drams of dry thyme pulverised, being ministered fasting to one that hath the gout, with two ounces and an half of honeyed vinegar, doth profit them very much: for it purgeth choler, and other sharp humours. It is good also for diseases of the bladder: and the weight of a dram being taken with a spoonful of honeyed water, it is good for such as begin to have a swollen belly: for the sciatica, and pain in the reins, in the sides, and in the breast, for inflations and stitches about the forepart of the belly, for melancholy persons; for those that are troubled in mind, and are in continual fearfulness, if three drams be given to them fasting with a spoonful of honied-vineger it will do them much good. It is profitable also against inflammation of the eyes, and vehement pains thereof, and against the gout in the feet, being taken with wine. The use thereof is very good for them that have but bad sight. Out of Thyme there is an oil extracted of the colour of gold, which cometh forth with the water, when the herb being fresh and green is distilled in a bathe of hot water. This oil smells like a Citron, and is very tart in taste, and good for all things, which have need to be heated. But we must note that heed must be taken, that to all the foresaid purposes black thyme be not used: for it corrupteth the temperature of the person, and engendereth choler. And therefore that thyme must be chosen, which beareth a carnation flower, and that for the best yet which beareth a white flower.  
Savoury also is an herb known unto all, 
Of Savoury.  and hath the same properties and virtues which thyme hath, being taken in such manner. There are two kinds thereof: one is like to thyme, somewhat less and more tender, bearing a bud full of green flowers inclining to purple. The other is greater and more branched, which is often found in gardens having many boughs that spread about it, being round and woody. The leaves thereof are greater than those of thyme, somewhat strong and harder, which do here and there grow about the branches in bunches together, after the springing whereof there grow out little buds environed with leaves, which are much less than the other, wherein grow small carnation flowers. The leaves and flowers of savoury being made in a garland or chaplet, and set upon the head of such as sleep, do waken them. Being used in a cataplasm with wheat-meale sod together in wine it is very available against grief of the sciatica. But the use of savoury is chief good for healthful persons, whether it be in pottage, or in sauce, or otherwise. And it being dried in the shade, and brought into powder, may be used instead of spices, and so may Thyme and Marierom, with marvelous profit for health: and strange drugs that are hurtful may be spared, as pepper and ginger are, being commonly used.  

Of Marierom.  Marierom is so good for all persons, so that there are but few people which have it not, either in their gardens, or in earth pots: the whole plant is very odoriferous, and most profitable in physic. It is branched with small pliable twigs, with long whitish and hairy leaves growing about those twigs. It beareth flowers in great number on the top of the stalks, and buds of the colour of the herb, being long, and composed of an heap of scales, well compact together, out of which groweth a little grain. In property it resolveth, and is attenuative, opening and coroborative. It is excellent against all cold diseases of the head, and of the sinews, both outwardly applied and taken in drink: as also for griefs in the ears, noise in them, and difficult hearing, if some of the juice of the leaves thereof be dropped into them. The juice thereof also being snuffed up into the nose, purgeth the phlegm of the head, cleanseth the brain, and fortifieth it. The use of this plant and of the decoction thereof, is good against all evil in the breast, which may stop the free course and recourse of breath. It is profitable for them that are diseased in the liver, and in the spleen: not only freeing the liver and spleen from oppilations and stops; but also making them strong and sound. The decoction thereof also being drunk, is good in the beginning of a dropsy, for difficulty in making water, and for pulling in one's belly. And the leaves thereof serve against the stingings of scorpions, being laid thereupon with salt and vinegar.  

Of Rue.  Rue likewise by reason of the great and exquisite properties thereof deserveth to be remembered. This plant is always green, very thick of juicy leaves, many hanging at one stalk of small growth, but very broad, of a dark green colour. It produceth many little boughs & branches, & on the top yellow flowers; out of which grow little heads divided into four parts, wherein small black seed is enclosed. This herb is very attenuative, incisive, digestive, resolutive, provocative, & driveth out ventosities very forcibly. For it is hot in the third degree, and not only sharp in taste, but bitter also: by means whereof it may resolve and penetrate gross and clammy humours; and through the same qualities provoke urine. It doth also consist of subtle parts, and is numbered amongst medicines, which dry greatly: and therefore it is good against inflations, assuaging the appetite of lust, it resolveth and freeth from all windines. The seed thereof drunk in wine, to the weight of fifteen ounces, is a singular remedy against all poison. The leaves eaten alone fasting, or with nuts and dry figs, do kill the power of venom, and are good against serpents. The decoction thereof drunk, is profitable against pains in the breast and in the sides, inflammation of the liver, the gout, and shake of agues; being eaten raw or confected, it cleareth the sight, is good against difficulty in breathing, and against the cough: being mixed with French cherries dried, it allayeth pains of the eyes; being mixed with oil of Roses and vinegar, it easeth the headache; being brayed and put into the nose, it stauncheth the bleeding thereof. The distilled water of it, infused into an equal portion of wine and rose water, is sovereign for the pain in the eyes.  
Parsley is ordinary and common in all gardens, 
Of Parsley.  and the use thereof great, and very commodious for the mouth and stomach. Neither is there any herb more used in meats, and in sauces. But it hath many properties in physic, for which it is much to be commended. For the decoction of the leaves or roots thereof openeth the passage of urine, and purgeth out gravel that hath long lain in the urine conduits: it easeth the colic and pains in the rains, being used in manner of fomentation upon the grieved parts. The seed thereof is yet of greater virtue in the foresaid effects: it serveth (being drunk) against venom of serpents, and driveth out ventosities. The often usage of parsley doth take away stinking of breath: being applied in a cataplasm with crumbs of white bread it healeth tetters, assuageth the swelling of the dugs, and for women in childbed doth diminish their milk. There is also another kind of parsley called Marsh-parsley, commonly named (broad smallage) which hath as much or more efficacy in physic then the other, especially the seed thereof which hath most singular uses. Which being sharp with great bitterness, is hot in operation, with a piercing virtue. Wherefore it is good for wring in the belly, windines of stomach, & for the colic: it is singular in drink, for pains in the sides, in the rains, and in the bladder.  
Fennell doth also consist of two sorts; one is of set fennel, 
Of Fennell.  and the other wild fennel. Garden or set fennel is very pleasant in taste, for the savoury sweetness thereof, and is profitable being used in physic. The decoction of the leaves serve greatly for pains in the reins, being drunk, and provoketh urine. The herb of fennel eaten, or the seed sodden with barley water doth make very much milk come into women's breasts. The root brayed and applied with honey, healeth the bitings of dogs. The seed is excellent to suppress wind, being taken after meals, though it be of hard digestion, and doth but badly nourish the body. But fennel is most principally good, both the leaves and seed thereof, to clear the sight: and therefore some press out the juice of the leaves, and tender stalks, which they preserve and keep for this purpose: And they do also distill the water thereof for the same use. In the western part of Spain the fennel yieldeth a liquor like unto gum, which is of greater efficacy than the juice thereof in medicines for the eyes. Wild fennel is sharper in taste, hath greater leaves, and groweth higher, than garden fennel. The root thereof hath a good sent, and being taken in drink doth profit them much that hardly make water: it is good against bitings of serpents; breaketh the stone, and healeth the jaundice: which the seed thereof doth likewise. Now (ACHITOB) do you proceed in talk concerning simples.   

Of Rosemary, Camomile, the Lily, Balm, of grass or dogs-tooth, and of Pimpernell. Chap. 76.  ACHITOB. 
IT would be very hard to find out in one plant only more virtues and properties, than they who have traveled to publish the science of simples, have attributed to rosemary: and yet it seemeth to many that it is fit for nothing but to make garlands and nosegays, and being so very common, is not esteemed to be of great efficacy. Indeed it is a very ordinary plant, and in Provence it groweth to such greatness, that the people use it for fire-fewell like other wood: and the stock is of such compass, that they make tables and haps thereof: Yet all this lets not, but it may be of admirable virtue. For it is very good against cold diseases of the stomach, against the colic, and casting up of meat, 
Of Rosemary, and the admirable property thereof.  by eating it either in bread, or drinking it in powder with pure wine. It is profitable for such as are diseased in the liver or spleen: for it doth not only heat, purify and open, but through the restringent virtue thereof it doth also fortify. It is very good against all rheums, and all cold maladies, against the falling evil, numbnes of members, the lethargy and palsy. It is good to wash the head, and for fomentations of the joints. It doth sharpen the sight, sweeten the breath, and being boiled in vinegar and hard wine, it stayeth the rheums that fall into the teeth and gums, if the mouth be washed with this decoction hot. The powder thereof dried doth consolidate green wounds, if they be washed before with wine wherein rosemary hath been sodden, and then the powder be strewed on afterwards. The flowers thereof confected in sugar, are good for all things aforesaid, particularly against cold passions of the heart, against maladies of the breast, and against the plague. The decoction of rosemary made in water, and taken in drink doth heal the jaundice. So likewise doth the seed being drunk with pepper and white wine. In the plague time it is good to perfume the house with this plant, for the fume thereof driveth away ill airs.  
Camomile also groweth abundantly amongst corn, 
Of Camomile.  and in the fields, bearing yellow flowers environed with whitish leaves, and is of a strong savour. But to mollify, resolve, rarefy, and loosen, this plant is of singular operation: And in this respect no medicine is better for weary folks then a bath of camomile. The leaves beaten, and put into white wine make a profitable drink, to heal quotidian and quartan agues: the decoction thereof drunk healeth pains in the side: and so doth the water distilled of the flowers: which flowers being gathered without leaves, beaten in a mortar, & form with oil into trochisks, afterwards dissolved again in oil, if they be therewith rubbed and chafed, which are troubled with fevers, from the crown of the head to the foot, and that they presently go into bed to sweat, they shall be helped, because of the abundant heat that goeth out of their body. Camomile is especially good to dissolve fevers that are without inflammation of any chief intraile, principally those which proceed from choleric humours and thickness of the skin. Being taken in drink, or the fume thereof received in at the fundament, it is a great help to void urine and gravel.  

Of the Lily.  The lily is likewise very worthy of consideration. It beareth long leaves, ever green, smooth, and juicy; it hath a stalk of two cubits high, round, strait, even, thick, and strong, all clad with leaves from the bottom to the top. At the top of the stalk grow three or four little branches, out of which issue small long heads of the colour of the herb, which in time become fair lilies of exquisite whiteness, crossed on the outside, and the ends turned outwards round about. At the bottom of the flower grow certain yellow stalks, as it were dusty on the upper side, of the fashion of tongues, out of the midst of which groweth one long one, having a round head of the colour of the herb. There is no flower so high, and it surpasseth in beauty all other whiteness. Now for the virtue of this plant. The leaves thereof are good being applied against the biting of serpents; being boiled they heal burnings, and confected in vinegar, are good for wounds: water distilled of the flowers, are profitable for women that are delivered of child with great difficulty, and voideth out the after-burden, being mixed with saffron, and Cinnamon. The oil drawn out of those flowers is good against all cold diseases of the sinews, as cramps, and palsies, and to mollify all stiffness in the joints, and all hard-swollen kernels. Lilies long time steeped in oil, being applied hot, do ripen hot impostumes without pain, and do break them, especially such as are in the joints. And the body of the roots hath the same property. For being boiled, and brayed with oil of roses, they ripen impostumes, and being brayed with honey they heal cut and lame sinews, cleanse the head of scabs, and clarify the visage, and make it smooth. The seed of Lilies also taken in drink, serveth against the bitings of serpents. And the water that is distilled of the flowers in a limbeck doth take wrinkles out of women's faces, and doth beautify them very much.  

Of Balm.  Balm is a very odoriferous plant, and smelleth much like a Citron: the stalk and leaves thereof are somewhat rough, and many stalks issue out of the root. The property of it is to rejoice the heart, to comfort cold and moist stomachs, to help digestion, to evacuate the stops of the conduits of the brain, to heal feebleness and faintness of heart, to fortify it being weak, especially if the weakness be such that it oftentimes breaketh once sleep in the night: moreover this herb stayeth the panting of the heart, driveth away cares and sad imaginations, which proceed either from the melancholy humour, or from phlegm combust. It hath also a laxative virtue, not so feeble, but that it cleanseth and purgeth the spirits, and blood of the heart and arteries, from all melancholy vapours: which it cannot do to the other parts of the body. The leaves thereof taken in drink, or outwardly applied, are good against stingings of the Tarantula, of Scorpions, and against the biting of dogs: and it is good to bathe such wounds with the decoction thereof. Being mixed with salt, they are profitable against the king's evil, and mundify ulcers: and being applied, do assuage the pain of gouts. They are used in clysters against the flux. Also the leaves taken in drink with niter, are very good for them that are stopped by eating toad stools, or mushrums: and in loch for them that are troubled with shrinking up of the belly, and breath with such difficulty, that they cannot do it except they stand upright.  
Grass, 
Of Dogs-tooth.  or Dogs-tooth is one of the commonest herbs in the field, yea even in lean grounds. The branches thereof lie a long upon the earth, and are full of knots, out of which, and out of the top it often sendeth new roots. The leaves are very small and pointed: it is marvelous in property. For the decoction thereof taken in drink, healeth wring in the belly, and hard making of water, and breaketh the stone and gravel in the bladder. The root brayed and applied, searcheth wounds. And the juice of the decoction thereof may be used to the same effect: which the herb also doth, being beaten, and keepeth wounds from all inflammation: if to the decoction thereof be put a little wine, or honey, and the third part of so much Pepper, Myrrh, & frankincense, and be made to boil afterwards again in some copper vessel; it is a singular remedy for the toothache, and the rheum which falleth into the eyes. Grass also that hath seven spaces betwixt the knots, is very good for the headache being bound about it. It likewise stauncheth bleeding at nose. The seed thereof doth greatly provoke urine, and bindeth the belly, and stayeth vomiting. It is special good against biting of Dragons. There is found in some places of Germany a certain kind of grass, which is tilled with as great care, as other corn, or pulse, because the people useth the seed thereof in their meats, which seed they call (Mama) and they seethe it in pottage with fat meat, and find it as good as Rice. It is smaller than millet, and very white. But it must be beaten in a mortar, to unhuske it.  

Of Pimpernell.  There are three sorts of Pimpernell. One groweth very great, and hath a long root, the leaves are couched round upon the earth, being cut and indented about: the stalk is square, the flowers thick in bunches, small and whitish. The next sort is little, and hath a red stalk; the leaves small, not so much cut, and thinner dented. The third kind is the most common, which is often eaten in salads, and set in gardens. The root of the two first kinds (wherein all their virtue lieth) is very good for pains in the reins, and bladder, which are caused by the stone. For it cleareth the reins of gravel, and driveth forth long kept urine. The juice also of this root being drunk with wine, is singular against all poisons, and bitings of venomous beasts. For which cause some esteem much of this root, to be used against the plague. The third kind of Pimpernell is different in virtue from the former, although they be very like in form of leaves. For it is more restringent in taste and very nourishing; for which cause it may be thought to be of a binding nature. Wherefore it stayeth the Dysenteria and other fluxes, and the vomiting of choleric humours. It healeth wounds and ulcers, and it is of special use in ointments that are made for wounds in the head, and for cankers. Some physicians have much commended it in the cure of pestilent and contagious fevers: affirming also that the often usage thereof is a sovereign preservative against dangerous diseases. Now (ASER) do you proceed in this our treatise concerning simples.   

Of Nightshade, Alkakeng, Pellitory of the wall, fumitory, Angelica, and of Maidenshaire. Chapter 77.  ASER. 
IT is wonderful to rehearse the virtues & properties, which many affirm to us in their writings to consist in the Solanum, whereof the Ancients made four kinds. But I will here make mention of two only, which are very common, 
Of Nightshade and the properties thereof.  sith that the rest are seldom found or never. The first kind is called Nightshade, which is a small little herb, having many pits in the stalk thereof; out of which grow black leaves, like to those of Basill, but a little greater. It beareth white flowers, yellow in the midst in fashion of a star. The fruit thereof is round, hanging in clusters, full of a winie juice, no less than juniper seed, wherein a small white grain is enclosed: this fruit is of divers colours; for in some plants it is black, in others yellow, and in some inclining towards a green. Concerning the property of this plant, the juice of the fruit thereof, as likewise of the leaves mixed with oil of roses, and a little vinegar, is singular against the headache, when it is caused by heat. It is good for such as are frantic, if one steep linen clothes therein, and lay them to the forepart of their head. In like sort may they be applied to the forehead against hot rheums that fall down into the eyes. It is good also to gargoyle it against inflammations of the throat, and falling of the palate. It is put in ointments to heal sore and grievous ulcers. The leaves thereof beaten with salt, and laid on a plaster, break impostumes that grow behind the ears. In brief, when need is to refresh, to dry up, or to restrain, nightshade is very convenient.  
Now for the other kind of Solanum, commonly called Alkakeng, 
Of Alkakeng and the virtue thereof.  it hath leaves like unto Nightshade, but broader, stronger, somewhat sharp, and not so black: the stalk thereof is supple, which being grown up inclineth towards the ground. The flowers are white, out of which rise little bladders as big as a nut, and grow sharp: they are composed of eight sides, of equal distance one from another. And they are at first green, and being ripe, red: within them they contain fruit one grain in each of them, being fastened to the bottom of the bladder, like to the seed of a red grape, both sharp and bitter, and full of a great number of small white grains within. In this fruit also is great virtue, not only to provoke urine, but also to allay the burning heat thereof. For the juice of it being drunk with the juice of white poppy, or of the seed of Melons, or of Gourds, or with the decoction of Mallows, or with barley water, is marvelous singular for the scorching heat of urine. And this plant is so contrary to adders, that laying the root thereof near unto them, they are suddenly surprised with so great sleep, that they die therewith. The fruit thereof steeped in new wine is very good being laid on the eye lids. Some put it in a vessel together with ripe grapes, which they suffer to boil for certain days together, out of which they extract a very profitable wine, for such as are troubled with gravel: evacuating the gravel marvelously well, and cleansing the reins being drunk to the weight of four ounces. And the same fruit taken in drink healeth the jaundice.  

Of Pellitory.  Pellitory is an herb very well known, and hath many great properties, the leaves thereof are rough, the stalk red, about which are bitter grains, which are fit to lay amongst apparel. This plant hath the virtue to refresh and bind, for which cause it is singular good to heal green wounds. For if it be laid upon a wound (being half beaten and very fresh) and be not taken off for three days together, there shall be no need to use any other medicine. The weight of three ounces of the juice thereof being drunk, is marvelous good to free urine that hath long been holden: and the herb heated upon a tile, and sprinkled with Malmsey, and applied to the forehead, is very good for such as are troubled with gravel, and cannot make water. The juice thereof held within the mouth, healeth the toothache. The distilled water thereof cleanseth and clarifieth the visage: the leaves being applied, heal burnings, swellings, and inflammations, being fried with fresh butter, or capon's grease, and laid in manner of a serge-cloth upon the belly, they ease the colic. A cataplasm also made of green pellitory beaten with crumbs of bread, and oil of roses, or camomile, resolveth impostumes which grow in the dugs. And being mixed with goates-grease, or kids grease, it is good for gouts and falls. The juice likewise mixed in like quantity of white wine, and oil of sweet almonds being newly made, allayeth the pains & torments of the stone; and dropped into the ears with oil of roses, it healeth the pain of them. Some minister them to gargoyle for inflammation in the throat. And some give them for an old cough. It is seen by experience that this herb is abstersive, in so much as it is very good to expel worms.  

Of Fumitory.  fumitory is an herb much branched and tender, having very small leaves growing here and there, of a white ashy colour, and in great number upon every side. The flower thereof is purple. This plant is one of the most gentle medicines, and least annoying, that may be amongst laxative remedies. But it is every where so common that none esteem of it. It is not only laxative, but doth also fortify the interior members, bindeth their veins which are too lose; as also those of the stomach, and of the liver, and healeth fevers that proceed by choler, or through stops. It evacuateth the choleric humour very much in urine: the seed thereof is bitter and somewhat sharp: and it is somewhat more hot, than the herb that is temperate: so that the whole plant is purifying, penetrative, opening and laxative. And because of the cold and stiptic quality thereof it bindeth, restraineth and fortifieth. It doth gently loosen the belly, it purgeth choler and burning humours. Wherefore it is good against the meazels, against cankers, and all infections of the skin, and other maladies which do proceed from oppilations: the juice thereof cleareth the sight, & causeth tears to issue even as smoke or fume doth, whereof it seemeth to have taken name.  
Angelica is a most excellent plant, 
Of Angelica.  and very worthy to be here described. It is above a cubit in height, it produceth a knotty stalk, crested, and full of pits, the leaves thereof are long, and indented round about; the flowers white growing in bunches, out of which springeth a little grain, and smooth like a lentil. The root is as thick as a reddish; divided into many branches, sharp in taste, and sweet in smell. Also there are sundry sorts thereof: for one kind is set in gardens, another sort is wild, and another groweth in watery places. All this plant is hot and dry in the second degree full, or to the beginning of the third: Wherefore it is opening, attenuating, and resolving. It is singular against poisons: so that taken in drink, or often chewed, it preserveth from the plague; being taken alone, it attenuateth phlegmatic and clammy humours. And so doth the decoction of the root thereof, which doth readily heal the cough that comes through cold: for it causeth one to spit out and void all clammy phlegm. The same decoction received in wine or water, healeth ulcers in the interior members, dissolveth clotted blood, and fortifieth the stomach. The root beaten to powder is sovereign against fainting of the heart & other passions thereof. It is singular against bitings of mad & venomous beasts; being laid thereupon with Rue, or taken inwardly: for which cause many of our modern physicians employ it in their counterpoisons & preservatives. There is given half a dram of the root, with a dram of treacle, and the distilled water hereof, to such as have the plague, who are constrained to sweat; and seven hours after to resume this drink: and by this only counterpoison some have been helped. This root chewed, and put into hollow teeth assuageth the pain of them. It also sweeteneth the breath. Whosoever shall hold a little piece thereof in his mouth, or in the morning drink two spoonfuls of wine wherein it hath been steeped, he shall not easily be infected with evil air all day after. The leaves thereof with the leaves of Rue and honey, applied in a cataplasm, heal the bitings of madde-dogs, and stingings of serpents. And being laid upon his head that is sick of an ague, it attracteth to itself much of the heat of the ague.  

Of Maidenhair.  Maidenhair also is a very exquisite plant, much like unto fern, but with smaller leaves, set in order here and there one over against another, in fine small branches, sharp in taste, black, and shining. It is temperate in heat and coldness; and therefore it drieth, purifieth, and resolveth: It is good to cause one spit and void out of the breast and lungs, all gross and clammy humours: It stayeth the flux of the belly, resolveth the king's evil, and other tumours, and being taken in drink is singular for hardness of water, when one can make it but drop by drop, & it breaketh the stone. The decoction also thereof is good for them that draw their breath with pain, and is profitable for the spleen, and against the jaundice. And the herb thereof being laid upon the bitings of serpents, is a singular remedy therefore. To open also the infusion thereof made in parsley water, or in endive water, or in broth of black chich-pease, or in a little goats-milk, is very good: and adding sugar thereto, it healeth inflammations of the side, & doth greatly provoke urine. Briefly all the virtues that Physicians attribute to Venus-haires called commonly (Capilli Veneris) agree with Maidenhair. Now (AMANA) let us hear you choose out other plants for the subject of your discourse.   

Of rhubarb, liquorice, Aloes, Seine, Saffron and century. Chapter 78.  AMANA. 
Sigh that it is not our purpose to write an entire History concerning simples, but only to consider of the most excellent in their effects, me seemeth that it is sufficient for us (so to make way to another matter) to add to our precedent discourses, that which I intent now to speak concerning some singular plants: amongst which I prefer rhubarb to the first place, which is very plentiful in all India. The leaves of it are commonly two foot long, broad above, and so growing narrower towards the stalk, 
Of rhubarb, and the excellent virtue thereof.  having a certain cotton or (as it were) hair round about it, as is commonly seen in the herb called in French (Bovillon blane.) The stalk thereof is but a foot high, or little more, and is all green like the leaves. In the middle thereof groweth out a very small branch, having certain flowers about it that environ it, which are like unto purple violets save in colour only, which is different being white and blue, of sharp smell, and very unpleasant to their nose that smell thereat. The root is very deep in the ground, of a foot and an half long, and as thick as a man's arm, some more, some less; and out of it there do many small ones sprout, which (before the great one be cut) are digged up with the principal, to the end that it may more easily be cleft in pieces. It is on the outside of an ashy colour, and full of yellowish juice, while it is fresh and green, and so clammy, that in touching thereof it causeth the fingers to stick together. Now this root is an excellent medicine, gentle, and without danger, wherein many singularities requisite in a laxative simple are comprised. And rhubarb is best while it is green, of a blackish colour, somewhat inclining to a red, and heavy, although it be of a rare body, and which being broken, is mixed with red and sky colour within: and being chewed, waxeth as yellow as Saffron. Besides it purgeth choler and phlegm: it cleanseth and fortifieth the stomach and liver, and healeth the pains and prickings of them. It clarifieth the blood, openeth and healeth all maladies that proceed of stops, as the jaundice, the dropsy, swelling of the spleen, and long fevers. It is good against spitting of blood, and stauncheth it, out of what part so ever it run. And it may be taken at all times without danger, and in all ages, yea it may be ministered to little children, and to great bellied women: although the vulgar people think otherwise, supposing that rhubarb is a very violent medicine, and that Physicians use it but in half despaired maladies: which is not so.  
liquorice is very worthy to be numbered amongst the most excellent Physic plants. And thereof are two kinds, 
Of liquorice.  one bearing fruit, and the other not: that which beareth fruit, groweth abundantly in Germany, and in the territory of Bamberg and other places. And it is a very branchy plant, of two cubits high, being thick of leaves, and fat in manner of gum: the flowers thereof are like an Hyacinth: the fruit thereof great like plantain berries, and more rough and hairy, enclosed within little cod, like those of lentils, hairy also and full of small prickles, of yellow colour inclining to a black. The other kind of liquorice is very well known, and groweth of itself in many places. In virtue it is abstersive, cleansing, and alaieth the bitterness of humours: and therefore it is very good for heat of the urine. Being chewed, especially whilst it is fresh, it stauncheth hunger and thirst, and retaineth that virtue for many days. And the juice thereof being made thick and held in the mouth, till it melt of itself, hath the same effect. It is good for the breast and lungs; and is therefore ministered to those who have short breath, or are in a consumption or pleurisy. The juice aslwageth the prickings, not only of the artery of the lungs, but of the bladder also: and doth excellently staunch thirst, as being tempered with moisture, and colder than our nature. And it is to be noted, that the root wherein lie all these properties is much better being fresh taken out of the ground, then when it is dry, and is more pleasant in taste being employed in medicines.  

Of Aloes.  The Aloë is a plant, which is seen green in many towns in Italy, in windows, and galleries: it is kept in pots full of earth, more for pleasure to content the eye, then for use in medicine. But the liquor and juice that is pressed out of it and brought to us, is extracted out of the Aloë that groweth in the lower Syria, and Arabia, and in the Indies, where the best is. This plant hath thick and fat leaves, with certain little prickles here and there on all sides. The root thereof is fat and oily, bearing a white flower, out of which groweth a little grain, like that of Smallage. In the thick juice thereof prepared for medicine there is found gravel and earth, which is nothing but the settlings of pure Aloes: but the good is pure and clean, not sophisticate, without gravel, or little stones, reddish, brittle, of a good smell, close like a liver, and very much inclining to the colour thereof, easily melting, and very bitter: that which is black, and hard to break is worth nothing. The Aloë is profitable for many things because of the dryness thereof without any sharpness. It purgeth choler and phlegm, the head, and stomach, and is very good for pains in those parts, it quickeneth all the senses, openeth the liver, and healeth the jaundice. It killeth worms in the belly, being incorporated with ox gall, and vinegar, and laid upon the navel. Some apply the powder thereof to wonnds to search them; it healeth ulcers, and stayeth them. It appeaseth the pain of the head, being applied to the temples, & forehead with vinegar, and oil of roses. In brief the property thereof is to restrain, to dry, to provoke sleep, to bind the body, and yet to loosen the belly.  
Seine hath leaves like liquorice, thick, fat, 
Of Sene.  and in taste like beans: the stalk thereof is a cubit high, out of which issue many branches as pliable as a leathern thong. The flowers thereof are yellow, streaked with small purple streaks; after which there grow certain cod crooked like a sickle, wherein is enclosed a black seed, inclining to green, very like to kernels in grapes. It is sowed in divers places in Florence, and prospereth very well, especially in the territory of the city of Florence; but the best is brought from Alexandria in Egypt, and out of Syria. It purgeth without any annoyance, choler, phlegm, and melancholy. It mundifieth the heart, the liver, the brain, the spleen, the lungs, and all parts of the body, and is profitable for all the accidents of them. It openeth the inner parts, and maintaineth a man or woman in youth, forsloweth age, and causeth joy of mind. The leaves thereof are good to wash the head with camomile; for they fortify the brain, the sinews, the sight, and the hearing. Briefly it is a good medicine in all long diseases, and such as proceed of a melancholy humour. And therefore it is very profitable for them that rave, and are out of their wits: likewise for ulcers over all the body, for palsies, for the headache, and falling evil. It fortifieth the heart especially, being mixed with some other ingredient fit therefore, as namely with purple violets. It is very good in the infusion or decoction thereof to add some clones thereto, to correct a little that annoyance, which some say it doth to the stomach, and to fortify the virtue thereof. And being mixed with some infusion of roses, or laxative syrup of roses, it is an excellent purge for all evil humours. There is a syrup made of Seine, being taken green from the plant, and mixed with infusion of roses, which is very good to that effect: and is so gentle that one may minister thereof to women with child, and to little infants, and people of all ages.  
Saffron is a common plant, and yet hath many virtues. 
Of Saffron.  It beareth many leaves, long, narrow, small, full, not round, hanging downwards, thick, and soft. The flower thereof is sky coloured, and very fair to behold. Out of the middle thereof grow certain red threads, big at the top: with which out of the same place almost, there grow other yellow ones in fashion like tongues. That Saffron is good, which dieth your hands with the colour thereof, and that smelleth somewhat sharp, and is not very brittle. In property it is good for feebleness of stomach, and faintness of heart, being taken in some small quantity it preserveth from drunkenness, and healeth the bitings of serpents, and stinging of spiders. It is restorative, the astriction thereof very much aiding thereto: which quality proceedeth from cold and earthines, although that the quality of heat exceed therein: in such sort as in all the substance thereof, it is hot in the second degree, and dry in the first. But the smell thereof is nought for the head, and being taken too much it troubleth the spirit.  

Of Century.  century is likewise worthy of great consideration, because of the properties thereof in physic. There be two sorts of it, one is called great century: and the other is lesser century. The great hath leaves like a walnut tree, long, green like Colewoorts, indented about, a stalk of two or three cubits high. The flower thereof is blue, and the root very big, full of juice, sharp with astriction and sweetness. The lesser sore hath leaves like rue, a square stalk, somewhat more than a span long: the flowers thereof are red, inclining to purple; and the root is small, smooth and bitter in taste. For their properties, the virtue of great century consisteth in the root thereof, which serveth for ruptures, convulsions, difficulty in breathing, old coughs, pleurisies, and spitting of blood. It is also given to them that are sick of the dropsy, of the jaundice, and are pained in their liver, being either steeped in wine or beaten to powder, and drunk. Of the lesser, Galen hath composed an whole book, which he dedicated to his friend Papias, concerning the great and admirable virtues therein. For it purgeth choler and phlegm, for which cause the decoction thereof is good against tertian fevers; which also, and the juice thereof helpeth stops and hardness of the liver and spleen. Being drunk likewise to the weight of a dram with honey, or laid upon the navel, it avoideth worms out of the belly. The leaves of this herb, wherein, and in the flowers thereof lieth all the virtue, being applied fresh to great wounds, search them, and heals up old ulcers But now changing our talk, let us leave physic plants, and say somewhat concerning those more excellent ones, which particularly serve for the nurture of man..   

Of Wheat, Rye, Barley, and Oats; and of Rice, and Millet. Chap. 79.  ARAM. 
Amongsts' herbs and plants, wherewith men are fed and nourished, the chief degree is by good right assigned to wheat, as to that grain, whereof the best bread is made, which only with water, may very well suffice for the maintenance of our life: having many properties also in the use of physic. Now according to the diversity of places wherein it groweth people do name it; and one sort differeth from another; but we will here speak of that which is most common amongst us. All wheat hath many very small roots, 
Of Wheat, and of the form, and fertility thereof.  but one leaf; and many buds, which may divide themselves into sundry branches. All the winter time it is an herb, but the weather waxing milder, there springeth out of the midst thereof a small stalk, which after three or four knots or joints, beareth an ear, not by and by seen, but is hidden within a case. The stalk being made, the flower bloometh some four or five days after, and about so long endureth. That past, the grain swelleth, and ripeneth in forty days, or sooner, as the climate is in heat. The fertility of this plant is marvelous, as we behold by daily experience. For there are some places in Italy especially in the territory of Sienna, about the sea coasts, where there hath been seen to grow out of one only grain four and twenty ears of corn, and that one bushel of seed hath yielded an hundred. The best wheat should be hard to break, massive, weighty, of the colour of gold, clear, smooth, & kept three months ripe, fair, and growing in a fat soil, to be the fit to make better bread of. And the meal also must not be too much ground, neither yet too fresh, nor too long kept before it be used: for if it be too much ground, it maketh bread as if it were of bran; that which is too fresh doth yet retain therein some heat of the millstone: and that which is kept too long will be spoiled either by dust, or by mouldines, or will else have some bad smell. Now besides the common use of wheat, the manner how to make it in drink is very notable, which drink serveth instead of wine in those countries, where the vine cannot fructify. 
Beer.  For there they take wheat, and sometimes barley, rye, or oats, every one apart; or else two or three sorts of these grains, or else all mingled together, and steep them in fountain water, or in water of the cleanest and clearest river that may be chosen: or else for better in a decoction or wourt of hops, and this is done for so long time till the grain begin to break: then is it dried in the sun: being dry, it is beaten, or else ground; afterwards sodden in water, in which it hath first been steeped for the space of three or four hours, putting thereto a good quantity of the flowers of hops, and skimming the decoction or wourt very well: that done, it is powered out, and put in vessels for the purpose. This drink is called Beer: And they which will have it very pleasant to the taste, after it is made, do cast into the vessels sugar, cinnamon, and cloves, and then stir it very much. Some do put cockle into the composition of beer, the more to sharpen the taste. And sith we are entered into this speech, we will here note, that wheat doth easily convert into cockle chief when the weather is rainy and cold: 
Of Cockle.  for it cometh of corn corrupted by too much moisture, or that hath been too much wet by continual rains in winter. It springeth first out of the ground, having a long leaf, fat, & rough, with a slenderer stalk than that of wheat, at the top whereof there is a long ear, having on all sides little sharp cod or husks, out of which three or four grains grow together being covered with a very hard bark. The bread that hath much thereof in it doth dizzy and hurt the head, so that they which eat thereof do commonly fall into a sound sleep, and their head is much troubled. It annoyeth the eyes and dimmeth the sight. Some also do make (
* As some think wafercakes.  Amylum) of wheat, which serveth for many things. They take very clean wheat of three months old, which they wet five times a day, and as often by night, if it be possible; being well soaked and steeped, they power the water away, not shaking it to the end that the thick, and that which is like cream may not run out with the water. After that it is very well mollified, and the water changed, it must be sifted, that the bran which swimmeth at top thereof may be done away, and then must it be kneaded very hard together casting fresh water still upon it. And so it must be laid in panniers or dossers to dry, and then upon new tiles to be parched in the sun, with as much speed as may be: for if it remain never so little a while moist, it waxeth sour. The best is that which is white, fresh, light and smooth. It hath power to mollify in sharp and rough things: and is good against rheums that fall into the eyes. Being taken in drink, it restraineth spitting of blood, and assuageth the soreness of the throat.  
Next after Wheat, Rye is in common use to make bread of. 
Of Rye.  This plant hath many stalks smaller than those of wheat, and blacker, as the grain is also. Meal made of Rye is good for plasters to draw. The decoction of the seed voideth worms out of the belly, especially if Coriander seed be mixed therewith. The straw being soaked in water is good to bind vines instead of rush or broom.  
Barley is also much used every where. 
Of Barley.  It beareth a broad leaf, and rougher than wheat, & hath a britler and lesser stalk of eight knots, with one only rough broad leaf upon the stalk. The grain is lapped in a cod, which is close shut: out of the top whereof groweth a long and sharp beard. The best is that which is whitest, most full, heavy, easy to boil, not waxing mouldy. There groweth a certain kind of it in many places; the grain whereof is easily taken out of the husk or cod, and is therefore called cleansed Barley. Besides, all barley drieth and cooleth, and is also abstersive. The meal thereof boiled in honied-water with figs, resolveth all inflammations and impostumes: with rosin and pigeon's dung, it ripeneth all hard swellings: with melilot & heads of poppy, it easeth the pain of the sides; and with quinces or vinegar, it appeaseth inflammations of the gout in the feet. The ashes of  barley is very good for burnings being laid thereupon, and applied to flesh that cleaveth not to the bone. Concerning barley-bread, besides that it lieth heavy upon the stomach, it engendereth also cold and clammy humours: it nourisheth little, causeth windines; and yet some say it is very good for them that have the gout in their feet. 
Of Beer.  There is a certain kind of drink called Beer made of barley, which is commonly used instead of wine in all the north-countries, to wit in Germany, Bohemia, Polonia, Flanders, & other cold countries of Europe. And if one take too much thereof, it will inebriate or make drunken as well as wine, & that for a longer time, because that beer is more gross and material, and of harder digestion than wine: whereto it is so like also in force and virtue, that aquavitae is likewise made thereof. Next after barley, oats are a grain very commodious. 
Of Oats.  In leaf and stalk this grain resembleth wheat; but it beareth on the top thereof as it were little twolegd grasshoppers, hanging where the grain is enclosed: which though it seem to be created of nature rather fit for beasts food, then for man: yet in Germany they oftentimes eat it in good fat flesh pottage, being boiled therein after it hath been cleansed of all filth, as is used in rice. Oats also in the use of physic do very near approach to the quality of Barley: For being applied, it drieth, and moderately resolveth. But it is a little more cold, and somewhat more restringent in temper, so that it is good for the flux in the belly, and profitable for those that have the cough.  

Of Rice.  We may likewise consider of Rice, which the Ancients did hold to be a kind of corn. The leaf thereof is very thick, resembling that of a leek. The stalk thereof is about a cubit long, knotty, bigger than that of wheat, and stronger: on the top of it groweth an ear parted into little branches, on both sides whereof is the grain included, in a yellow husk, rough, and having crevices on the side, of an oval figure, and being taken out of the husk it becometh white. It groweth in some places of Italy in moist ground: but it aboundeth in Asia, Syria, and Egypt. Rice is very usual in meat, and nourisheth meanly: but it is made of more e●●●… digestion, and of better taste being sod in cowes-milk, almond milk, or fat flesh pottage. It is very good to give to such as have the lax, and colic. The flower thereof is good in repercussive plasters. It stayeth inflammations that rise in the dugs. The decoction of Rice also is very profitable in clysters, against laxes or fluxes, and in drink likewise. Now to end this talk, 
Of Millet.  we will say something concerning Millet, for it hath many properties both in food and physic. This plant beareth leaves like those of a reed, having a stalk of a cubit long, thick, knotty, and rough. At the top thereof do hang certain hairy heads in which the grain groweth in great abundance, being round, massive, yellow, and lapped in a thin skin. In many places bread is made of this grain, and even at Verona it is carried hot about the streets, whereof they make much account; for it hath a sweetness very pleasant to the taste, if it be eaten a little after it is drawn out of the oven: but being hard it is unpleasant. The common people of Trent, are nourished with Millet boiled only, eating it with milk, and it is the best food that they can get. Besides, there are very good fomentations or serge-clothes made of Millet, to dry moderately, and to drive out ventosities, especially being mixed with salt. It is happily applied against gripping in the belly caused through windines: but it is much better yet being mingled with flowers of Camomile. It is commonly fried in a pan, and then put hot into a bag, and so laid upon the diseased parts. It hath the virtue to preserve medicines long time from moulding and putrefying, if they be buried in an heap of Millet: yea and fresh flesh is long kept thereby in hot weather. Now to finish this days discourse, it seemeth good to me (ACHITOB) that you speak of the vine and fruit thereof, of which men make their most delicious drink.   

Of the Vine, of Grapes, of Wine, and of Aquavitae. Chap. 80.  ACHITOB. 
IT were very superfluous to make here a long discourse concerning the Vine, and concerning the divers qualities which are found in this plant, of which we do not only receive Grapes (a most pleasant, and delicious meat) but have also that most exquisite drink which we call wine: for all the world hath so much cherished the vine, that there are few people of any condition soever, but can discourse sufficiently well of it, and of the nature thereof. 
Property of the Vine.  We will briefly then declare that which we shall think most notable therein, and chief in the use of medicine. The leaves, and tender branches thereof help the headache, being laid thereupon, and appease inflammations and heat of the stomach. The juice of them drunk serve against Dysenterias, or fluxes, spitting of blood, weakness of stomach, and the corrupt appetite of great bellied women. The liquor of vines, which lieth thick upon the stock thereof like gum, being taken in drink with wine, purgeth gravel. The ashes of the branches and stones, being mixed with vinegar, helpeth the hard bindings of the fundament, and is good against the stingings and bite of vipers, and against inflammation of the spleen, being laid thereupon with oil of Roses, Rue, and vinegar.  
As grapes are the most singular fruits of Autumn; 
Of Grapes.  so also are they the most nourishing of all the fruits of summer, which are not to be kept; and they engender the best nourishment especially when they be perfect ripe. But all Raisins do not nourish after one manner: for sweet ones have a more hot substance: and therefore they cause thirst, do swell the stomach, and loosen the belly. Contrariwise, tart ones do bind, do nourish little, and are of hard digestion. green and sour ones are nought for the stomach. And the bigger grapes are, the better they are, especially if they be gathered very ripe. They which are kept hanged up are best for nourishment, because their great moisture is dried. The fresh & very ripe grape is good for burnings, if the wine thereof be priest out betwixt ones hands upon the hurt places. The mother of the wine or grapes being kept, and mixed with salt, is profitable against inflammations of the dugs, & hardness of them through too much abundance of milk. The decoction thereof clisterized, serveth greatly for dysenterias or fluxes. The stones or seeds have a restringent virtue, and are profitable for the stomach. Being parched and beaten into powder, it is good to eat with meat against the flux, and weakness of stomach. Dry grapes or raisins have yet greater virtues and properties in the use of Physic: and especially they which are sweetest, and of most substance, as they of Damascus, of Cypress, and of Candia. The meat of them being eaten is good for the cough, for the throat, the reins and the bladder: being eaten with their stones, they serve against dysenterias. Being boiled in a platter with sugar and flower of millet, of barley, and an egg, they purge the brain: being reduced into a plaster, with flower of beans and cumin, 
Propertie of dry Raisins.  they appease inflammations. Besides, the nourishment of raisins is so distributed through the body according as their nature is, sweet to the sweet, sour to the sour, mean to them that participate with both qualities; and the sweet, full and fat raisins do nourish more than the sharp and lean. They which are without stones, either by nature or art, if they be sweet, they are so deprived of all astriction, so that they be marvelous lenitive. And therefore are they most fit for pains of the breast, for the cough, for sore throats, for maladies in the reins and bladder, and are good also for the liver. But we may not here forget to make mention of the fruit of the wild Vine commonly called in French (Lambrusque) because of the admirable properties thereof. The grapes of it are gathered and put to dry in the shade: they are of a restringent virtue, good for the stomach, and provoke urine: they bind the belly, and stay spitting of blood.  
Now must we speak of Wine which is made of the Raisin, 
Of Wine, and the properties thereof.  and grape produced by the vine. Concerning it many affirm, that it is the most sweet liquor of all others, the principal aid, and chief prop of humane life, the chief restorer of the vital spirits, the most excellent strengthener of all the faculties and actions of the body, rejoicing & comforting the heart very much: and for these causes they say that the Ancients have called that plant, which beareth the fruit, out of which we receive this wine (Vitis quasi Vita) life. But yet we must not deceive ourselves by so many praises attributed to wine, considering that the use thereof by the least excess that may be, doth bring so many evils upon man, that they cannot be numbered, nor sufficiently bewailed. But being used temperately, we must confess, that it is a thing of greatest efficacy in the world, to nourish and strengthen the body. For it engendereth very pure blood, it is very quickly converted into nourishment, it helpeth to make digestion in all parts of the body, it giveth courage, purgeth the brain, refresheth the understanding, rejoiceth the heart, quickeneth the spirits, provoketh urine, driveth out ventosities, augmenteth natural heat, fatneth them who are in good health, exciteth the appetite, purifieth troubled blood, openeth stops, convaieth the nurture throughout the whole body, maketh good colour, and purgeth out of the body all that which is therein superfluous. But if wine be taken without great mediocrity and temperance, it doth by accident refrigerate the whole body. For the natural heat thereof by too much drink remaineth choked, even as a little fire is quenched by a great heap of wood cast thereupon. Besides, wine is hurtful for the brain, for the marrow of the back bone, and the sinews that grow out of it. Whereby it falleth out, that this principal part being hurt, there succeed in time, great and dangerous maladies thereupon, to wit, the apoplexy, the falling evil, the palsy, shake, numbnes of members, convulsions, giddiness of the head, shrinking of joints, the incubus, the catalepsia, lethargy, frenzy, rheums, deafness, blindness, and shrinking of mouth and lips. Moreover wine immoderately drunk corrupteth all good manners, and discipline of life. For this is it that makes men quarrelers, wranglers, rash, incensed, furious, diceplaiers, adulterers, homicides, in a word addicted to all vice, and dissolution. Besides it is to be noted, that wine is fit for old people, then for them of other ages: for it moderateth and mantaineth the cold temperature of ancient folks, which hath come upon them for many years. 
Of the use of Wine.  But it should not be sufferable (if we will follow the counsel of the elders) for children and young folks to drink thereof, till they attain to the age of twenty years. For otherwise it is as much as to put fire to fire. And yet if we would follow the counsel of the Sages, it should not be drunk at all, except in certain indispositions which might happen to the body, according as the use was in times passed in Greece, namely at Athens, where wine was only sold in Apothecaries shops, as Aquavitae now is. But above all, heed must be taken that in the great heat of the year, wine be not drunk that is cooled by snow, ye, or very cold water, as we see by great curiosity done among us. For it greatly hurteth the brain, the sinews, the breast, the lungs, the stomach, the bowels, the spleen, liver, reins, bladder, and teeth. And therefore it is no marvel, if they which ordinarily use it, are in time tormented with the colic and pain of the stomach: also with convulsions, palsies, apoplexies, difficulty in breathing, restrainment of urine, stops of the inward members, the dropsy, and many other great and dangerous diseases.  

Of Aquavitae, and the manner how to distill it.  It resteth for conclusion of this discourse, that we say somewhat concerning wine distilled through a limbeck in a bathe of water, which the Sages have called for the admirable virtues thereof (Water of Life.) For to make which: Take of the best wine a certain quantity according to the vessel wherein you will distill it, and that fill to the third part of the pot or body: then cover it with the head thereof very well closed, so that no vapour may issue out, set it upon the furnace over a moderate fire, in such sort that the wine boil not. And to have very good Aquavitae, you must distill it four or five times and more: for the more it is rectified, the perfecter it will be. And in the first distillation it is sufficient to receive the tenth part of the wine put into the limbeck: for the second the half; for the third another moiety or less: so that the oftener you distill, the lesser you have, but better always. Now you may know whether Aquavitae have attained to full perfection, by these signs: [If it arise to the like quantity of water, or very near, as the liquor put in: if being lighted or set on fire it burn all away, and leave not any mark of moisture in the bottom of the vessel: if a doth being dipped therein, and lighted, will not burn at all: if a drop of oil being cast therein sink to the bottom; and if a drop of this water spilled in the palm of your hand, do presently consume and evaporate.] Now the virtues and properties of this Aquavitae, are very many. For as it preserveth from all corruption those things which have been steeped therein: so all corruption being done away, it keepeth, repaireth, mantaineth, augmenteth, and prolongeth the life of those that receive it. And it doth not only preserve the natural heat, and maintain it in vigour; but it also regenerateth the vital spirit; quickeneth and warmeth the stomach, sharpeneth the brain and understanding, cleareth the sight, repaireth the memory, especially if they use it, who are of a cold temper, being subject to rawness of stomach, windines, and other cold maladies. Thus then have we declared enough concerning the plants and fruits which the earth produceth for the commodity of man. Wherefore, we will to morrow consider of the diversity of terrestrial creatures created to the same end, that we may be the more induced to glorify him, from whom we receive all these benefits.  
The end of the tenth days work.    

THE ELEVENTH DAYS WORK.  

Of terrestrial beasts, and especially of Serpents: namely of the Aspis or Adder, and of the Viper. Chapter 81.  ASER. 
BEing this day to discourse concerning living creatures of the Earth, so much as the subject of our speech doth require for the accomplishment of our work: It behoveth us to consider that the terrestrial beasts, being as it were innumerable in the species; yet they consist of two principal kinds: to wit, of Insect, and of perfect beasts. They of the first kind are called of the Latins by this word (Insecta) because of the incisions which appear upon their bodies, retaining life in that part, which we behold divided, and cut off: and they are engendered for the most part of putrefaction; but these things agree not with perfect creatures, who take their form in the matrice. Now we will here summarily entreat of Insect animals generally, and consequently of the most excellent of their kind, whereof some creep upon the earth, 
Of Insect beasts.  as serpents; & others fly, as flies. We are first then to note that all infect beasts are wild, and are very hardly tamed and made mild: for they have their inner senses very weak; whereas such creatures as are made tame and familiar, must have the faculty of imagination and good memory. Moreover, these kinds of beasts have little blood, or none at all, as Philosophers hold, who find in them a certain vital humour only, which Nature hath given them instead of blood: for which cause they are naturally fearful; and fear hindereth creatures from being tamed. Likewise they have commonly but short life: and beasts, who should be made familiar, require time for that purpose. Furthermore, in this kind of Insect beasts some are engendered only of putrefaction, as flies: others of eggs, as serpents: and also by another manner, which is perfected in the matrice by eggs, as the viper. Now in all this kind of beasts, they are most admirable, which we have here named, to wit: serpents, because of their greatness and puissant effects, and hony-flies or bees, and silkworms also, because of their work.  
But amongst the many kinds of serpents, 
Of the Aspis.  the Aspis or Adder is very worthy of consideration, and much to be feared: for there are three sorts, each whereof causeth him that is bitten by them soon to die, except he be quickly and very well succoured. One sort is named (Ptyas) another (Chersaea) both earth-serpents: and the third is called (Chelidonia) which abideth about banks of rivers, & specially of Nilus. The Ptyas, and Chersaea are of ashy and green colour, drawing a little to the colour of gold. But the Chelidonia hath a black back, and white belly like to swallows. And both the one and the other sort are of five cubits long in the regions of Africa. They raise up their neck when they will cast their venom; wherewith when one is attained their present remedy is speedily to cut away all that which is bitten, or else it is hard to save them from death: and yet many speak of divers remedies; and amongst others they commend very strong vinegar, advising that it should be given to the patiented to drink, even so much and for so long time till he feel the quality in the right side of his flanks: for they say that the liver is first deprived of feeling in such an accident. Some use Opopanax (a drug extracted out of Panaces Heracleum) which is given to drink in wine mixed with water, to cause them vomit the venom already spread throughout the whole body. And after such vomiting they must take very good treacle in drink, and apply it also upon the biting. Mattheolus describeth a quintessence, 
In. Diosco●. Lib. 6.  composed of Aquavitae, and some simples, and aromatical drugs, which is an excellent remedy of great efficacy, when such accidents happen. For indeed it is most certain, that waters artificially composed, and ingeniously distilled, consisting of most subtle parts, are in a moment dispersed throughout all the veins and arteries, and every part of the whole body. And therefore they cause, that the blood and spirits wax not cold, and do not congeal in those vessels which contain them: whereby also the natural heat coming to augment itself, doth strongly resist the force of the venom, and doth presently surmount it.  
The Viper also is a kind of serpent, it hath a flat head, 
Of the viper.  and broad near to the joint of the neck, which is naturally small, it hath a quick eye, and a nail in the nostril thereof, having all the rest of the body short, with the tail also, and is of a pale colour. Her pace and motion is very quick, and she beareth her head aloft: she differeth from other serpents, in that they lay but eggs, and she bringeth forth her young ones alive: which before they come forth do so gnaw and eat her belly, that she liveth not long after. And although the viper be very venomous, yet is her flesh very good for the composition of treacle, yea though her venom remain with her after death. Moreover, the biting of the viper is as much, or more dangerous than that of the Aspis: for they who are hurt die within seven hours after, except they be well succoured; and at farthest within three days, except they be helped by excellent remedies; of which, amongst others, this is good: clean a chicken in two, and lay the inside of her hot upon the wound, and do oftentimes reiterate this order: scarifying the flesh round about the biting, & applying divers times cupping glasses thereto. After which, you must give the patiented of the juice of ashtree leaves to drink, and lay the same leaves upon the wound, or else camomile brayed, or a plaster made of barley meal, & honeyed vinegar. Some use briar taken in drink with wine; or the juice of balm leaves drunk also with wine. Some say also that the viper being flayed, her tail, and head cut off, and her entrails drawn out and cast away, afterwards sod like an eel, and eaten by him that hath been bitten, doth greatly aid him to obtain health. As treacle also being chief made of viper's flesh, eaten, and applied to, is a singular remedy in such accidents.  
I could here discourse of many other kinds of serpents: but it is not our intent to represent a perfect history of living things, considering that many Authors have written thereof for our learning. Wherefore we will content ourselves only to add to that which we have said concerning serpents, 
Hist. nat. lib. ●. c. 14.  how that Pliny hath noted, that in the Indies there are so great and such prodigious ones, that they will swallow an Hart, or a bull all whole, and that in the days of Attilius Regulus General of the Romans', in time of the wars against the Carthaginians, there was seen a serpent in Africa of an hundred and twenty foot long, near to the flood of Bagrada, which was assailed with engines of war, and all manner of weapons, in such sort as if they had determined to give assault to some strong city: that in the reign also of the Emperor Claudius, there was a serpent killed named (Boam) which was found in mount Vatican, that had a child found whole in her belly. This author doth make mention of a certain town in Italy called Amycla, 
Lib. 3 c. 5.  which had been abandoned and left desolate of the inhabitants, by reason of serpents that chased them away. But this is most admirable which he reporteth, 
Lib. 10 c. 7●  that spiders seeing a serpent laid along under a tree where they have woven their cobwebs, will run directly down by a thread upon the head of the serpent, and will pierce him so to the quick of the brain, that they will constrain the serpent to hiss and gnash his teeth, to tumble and torment himself, without ever being able to get away, or break the spider's thread: in such sort that he shall still remain there. 
Lib. 11. c. 29.  He saith also that a Locust will kill a serpent, in wring him hard by the throat, & will not loosen till such time as he be through dead. But who will not greatly wonder at that which the same author testifieth to have seen by experience: 
Lib. 16. c. 13.  that a serpent enclosed & environed with ash leaves on the one side, and fire on the other, he should rather choose to cast himself into the fire, then to save himself through the ash leaves? So much is this tree contrary to serpents, that they even fly the shadow thereof both at morning and ceven; and indeed to drink the juice of the leaves thereof, and to lay the same leaves upon the wound, is a sovereign remedy against all their bitings. Whereupon Pliny taketh occasion to note, how that nature doth herein show herself a very benign and provident mother towards men, in that the ash should always bud before serpents should creep out of the earth, and that these trees should still be green, till such time as serpents should have withdrawn themselves. Now let us speak of the other kinds of Infects chosen by us, as the most excellent, to wit (Bees and silkworms) concerning which AMANA) let us hear you discourse.   

Of Bees, and of their honey and wax, and of Silkworms. Chap. 82.  AMANA. 
Many grave authors have not disdained, diligently to search out, and curiously to describe the history of Bees, being chief moved thereunto through admiration of their cunning in composing two so excellent commodities as are honey & wax: we will here then deliver that which we esteem to be most worthy of note in their writings. 
Of Bees.  First Bees are rustic and wild; or tame and familiar. And the wild are more ill-favoured to behold, more fierce and nought. Of the tame there are two kinds. One kind are round and short, and of divers colours, and these are the best. The other are long and like to wasps, and the worst of these are rough and hairy. All of them hate stinks and infections, and fly from them, for which cause they never sting such as are perfumed with sweet odours. They never fly against the light, nor upon any flesh, nor to blood, nor to any fat thing, but do only seek out leaves & flowers, which have an odoriferous juice. They delight in harmonious sounds and noises, whereby it cometh, that being scattered, they are assembled together, by the sound of a basin, or of some little bells, or by clapping the hands gently together. They use great policy amongst themselves, and there is no swarm but hath a king and captain, which is bigger than all the other Bees, and hath short wings, strait legs, a braver march than all the rest, with a spot in his forehead, which serveth as a Diadem or crown, and is in every part more slick, smooth, and fair then all the rest. When he goeth any whither, the whole troop followeth, encompassing & guarding him, not permitting that he be easily seen. And whilst all are at work, the king goeth from place to place cheering them, and he himself doth nothing else. He never cometh forth except when the whole troop goeth into the fields: which may be known certain days before by the noise which the Bees make within their hives, attending for some fair day to part in. If the king lose a wing, the troop doth not forsake him: for always every one of them desireth to be near him, and to do him service. And if he be weary they help him on their shoulders: if tired, they carry him: and in what place soever he resteth, all the swarm encampeth: If perhaps they lose him, they establish a new king of the race of the former, having always divers elected and known amongst them to succeed those that fail. For the rest of their government, their wit is no less admirable than their work, as is recorded to have been observed by Aristomachus Solensis, who delighted himself for 58. year together to nourish diligently these little animals, so much he loved them, never applying himself to any other thing. By which kind of means it was known that in the day time the Bees ward, and watch at the gate as in a camp, and rest in the night till such time as one amongst them being as Sentinel, wakeneth them with two or three sounds as it were of a trumpet. Then all of them assemble to see if it be fair weather: for they can judge of the winds, and of the rain, and in foul weather they budge not: but if the weather be fair and calm, all go to work. Some bring in their feet, that which they have drawn out of flowers: others bear water in their mouth: and some again helping them with a small hair do lad themselves with drops of water over all their body. The younger sort go forth to do these things, and the older travel within the hives, where their offices are appointed them. For some build others polish; this brings in matter, that victuals; another water, and all of them have all things common, and observe equality in meat and work. They watch who are idle, and chastise and punish them even sometimes by death. First they make their combs and wax, whereof they build their lodgings. After they be lodged, they consider how to multiply themselves, and last of all they make their honey. And they have this witty industry, to mix in the matter, wherewith they first besmear or overcast their hives, the juice of the most bitter herbs they can find, to the end to put such small beasts or flies out of taste that would suck thereof; even as if they had been informed, that their work was sought after. In brief all their manner of life, order and policy is every way admirable.  
But what may we say particularly concerning their honey and wax, 
Of Honey.  the use whereof is so commodious and profitable to man? It is certain that these industrious creatures know how to choose and gather a kind of dew, which falleth from heaven (at the rising of certain stars, especially in the dog-days) upon the leaves of plants, whereof they make honey. And the best is that which is of a deep yellow colour, and hath a pleasant smell, being pure and neat, shining every where, and sweet in taste, being also of a mean substance between liquid, and thick. In virtue it hath the property to hinder corruption, and rottenness: and therefore some make gargarisms thereof to cleanse and mundify the ulcers of the mouth. It preserveth life especially in those that are of cold complexion: so we behold that the Bee, which is a feeble, and tender creature liveth nine or ten years, because she is nourished by honey. It is abstersive, opening, and attracteth humours. Being in time applied to any part of the body which is bruised by some blow, or fall, it is a singular remedy to heal any such bruise; if so be the skin be not broken. And the wax (which is made of the combs taken out of the hives, 
Of Wax.  after that they have been well pressed, and that all the honey hath been drained out) is likewise of singular utility for men. The best should be very yellow, sweet, fat, light, pure, close, even, neat, and cleansed from all filth. It is of mean quality betwixt hot, cold, moist, and dry things, and is of a gross and clammy substance: retaining an hot and resolutive virtue, which also aboundeth in honey. It is ministered in drink against Dysenterias: but above all it is profitable in the composition of ointments, which are made for wounds.  

Of Silkworms.  Now let us speak of Silkworms, which next to Bees merit most admiration amongst all insect beasts. This worm is first bred of another worm of the same kind which hath horns: for thereof cometh a snail, which afterwards produceth the silk worm called Bombyx, and by some Necydalus, which is like to a butterfly; and layeth eggs through the copulation of the male and female; out of which eggs in the end those worms creep, who by so marvelous industry do make us our silk: that in a short time is drawn out of their mouth by a small thread, which afterward is woven with such wondrous art, that therein is nothing broken, false, or uneven, but every whit perfect from the beginning to the end of every bottom or clue, being one fastened to another. And that which maketh their labour seem more wondrous, is, that these creatures are without flesh, blood, or bones; without veins, sinews, or arteries; without scales, or any entrails: as also outwardly they are seen to be without teeth, nails, prickles, or bristles, hair, eyes, or ears: and yet in less than forty days, how small soever they be when they are engendered, they become thick, and great; having the benefit of eating and sleep, and they cast their skin four times. And then their body beginneth to glister, oftentimes showing the skein of silk which is in their belly, which if they must make white, they have their head as white as silver: if the silk must be yellow, their head willbe like gold: if green, or tawny, their head will bear the sign thereof. Then do they seek where to fasten it, and so weave their silk in order, till such time as they have performed their work; which doth not only serve for clothing for men, but for a singular remedy also to comfort a sick-hart, to rejoice it, and recreate sad, and melancholy spirits, as we may acknowledge by that excellent confection, called of Physicians (Alkermes) which for the most part compounded of the decoction and infusion of silk in the juice of kermes, being drunk is a sovereign medicine against faintness and syncopes. But having already said enough concerning Insect beasts, for the subject of our discourse, we will consequently speak of some perfect beasts, according as we shall make choice of, as of the most worthy to enrich our present work, to the end, as we have decreed that the creator may be glorified: whereof (ARAM) you must now entreat.   

Of the Dog, and of the Horse. Chapter 83.  ARAM. 
AMongst perfect beasts, the Dog and Horse do by good right deserve the first and chief degree, aswell because of their admirable sense, as also because of the utility, pleasure, and commodity, which they bring to man. Concerning these creatures, 
Carda. in. 10. lib. de. subt.  then shall our present discourse entreat: and first of the dog; which (as many authors affirm) took his original from the wolf, being tamed by the industry of man. Now there are many sorts of dogs, all which we may comprehend under two kinds: the one is, of them which are to keep house, and the other to chase withal. 
Of the house-dogge.  The house-dogge ought to be of gross and big body, being square set, and rather short then long: his head great, his throat wide, thick lips, big hanging ears, his eyes blue and black, burning, and sparkling, his neck thick and short, his breast large and rough, his shoulders broad, legs thick and hairy, and a short and thick tail, which is a sign of force: (for the long and small tail noteth swiftness) his paw and nails great, his barking high, big and fearful: above all vigilant and very watchful, not running here and there, but stayed, and more slow than hasty. Hunting hounds are of sundry sorts. 
Of Dogs for the chase.  They which are swift are either white or brown, or grey, or black. And the white are best: for they are well wound, quick, fierce, & will not leave the chase for any heat whatsoever, neither will break off for the press of hunters, nor for the noise and cry of men: and they observe change better than any other kind of hound, and are more certain: but they fear the water somewhat, especially in wintertime. If they be clean white, or spotted with red, they are the better. The brown doth second them, and are of a great courage, forward, quick and fierce, fearing neither water nor cold: but they cannot endure heat, and are not so easy to govern as the white. The grey are not so quick and furious as the rest; neither yet the black, who are commonly the biggest bodied. Yet there are good dogs of all hairs and colours, but to choose a fair and good hound indeed, these signs must be observed. His head must be meanly thick, more long then flat: his nostrils wide and open: ears broad, and reasonable thick: crooked reins: thick loins; big and large haunches; fair thighs; the right hamme-joint well knit; the tail thick near to the rains, and the rest small to the end: the hair under his belly rough, a thick leg, and the paw of his foot dry, and like to the paw of a fox: great nails, as high behind as before: and the dog must be short and crooked, but the bitch must be long. For open nostrils declare the dog to be well wound: crooked rains and strait hams signify quickness: the tail thick near to the rains, long and small to the end, denote strength and force in the rains, and that the hound is well breathed: hair rough under the belly, declareth that he is painful, fearing neither water nor cold: a thick leg, fox's foot, and great nails, demonstrate that he is not heavy footed, and that he is strong in members to run long without tiring. Besides hounds, there be greyhounds, blood hounds, water-spaniels, tumblers and mongrels, all which are of divers kinds: but our meaning is not to set down an entire narration thereof, considering that it is not necessary for that purpose, which we have decreed in our discourses. Wherefore we will content ourselves to note in general, that there is no beast of greater sense and love, nor more docible than the dog. For there be few things fit for the pleasure of man, but may he easily taught to this kind of creatures, especially in all points concerning hunting. Also histories abound with testimonies of their knowledge, and love towards those that nourish them. Pliny reporteth of a dog, 
Hist. nat. lib. 8. c. 40.  which defended his master being assailed by thieves, till such time as they had slain him: and that after his death the dog would not leave his body, but kept it both from the birds, and from other wild beasts that would have devoured it. That another dog also knowing one amongst a troop of people that had slain his master, flew upon him, and bitten him with such fury, that the murderer was constrained to confess the cause of the dog's rage, revealing his own misdeed.  
Now speak we of the horse, 
Of the Horse.  which of all beasts is most profitable for man, and is full of meekness and docility. He is praised in seven and twenty conditions: of which he seemeth to take three of the woman: to wit, young age, meekness of manners and beauty: three of the lion, courage, force, and to be tall before, not bowing in the midst, nor higher before then behind: three of the Eagle, a good eye, a little head, and to bear his head strait, and aloft: three of the ox, the foot great, thighs moderately thick, and short and strong joints: three of the heart, quickness, delivernes to run and leap well, and lightness: three of the ass, strong hooves, an hard skin, and a strong and able back: three of the fox, a fair tail, agility, and a fair skin: three of the goose, to eat well and quick, and to digest it, to have full bowels, and in his pace his feet equally distant, without enterfiering: and three which are proper to himself, a quick and easy pace, liveliness, promptness, and gallantness of heart; and readiness to obey the bridle and spur without being slow therein. If then we will know when an horse is perfectly fair, 
That which is required in a fa●●e Horse.  we must first note, that he have a small head, a gallant and fair forehead, dry and clean flesh, great and black eyes and standing out; short, sharp and strait ears; little, dry and thin lips, and not uneven; a wide throat; big, open, and red nostrils; his neck neither too short nor too long, but mean, lofty, not too fat and crooked like an arch and vault, with a fine curled & long main: also that he have a large breast, soft, and bearing out like that of a dove; big boned legs, but lean, and dry of flesh, strait, high, and even from the foot to the knee; thick, long, fat, sinewy, and fleshy thighs, but yet answerable to his buttocks, sides, and flanks; high heels, thick and short joints, and not close to the hoof which must be hard, high, round, black and hollow: he must also have the back short, not bunched, nor high like an asses back, but even, not too high nor too low; broad, long, great, strait, and well fleshed shoulders; a smooth, strong, massive, thick, and as it were a double crupper, a short tail of bone, small, strong, long haired, which he must bear close betwixt his thighs; a large and round flank, full sides, and long above the belly, which must be round, small, and well set under the sides, that must be broad, and long with a little distance from the hinder part to the joint of the haunch, and with small and equal cod. 
How an Horse is good.  Moreover, he must have to be good, a stately pace, a deliver trot, a swift gallop, a light course, a bounding and sudden leap, an assured and ready pace, quick at hand, and prompt to turn every way, to recoil back, and to run suddenly forward, not stamping or rattling with his bit, nor kicking against the spur, but conforming himself to the will of his master, without starting, or being afraid of any thing that he seethe, heareth or feeleth, not flinging and kicking amongst other horses. In a word that horse is to be esteemed which hath a lively and courageous heart, which is obedient, gentle, deliver, quick, and well mouthed, having a good foot, 
What hair is best.  and strong reins. For hair, the bay is best of all others, which being of divers colours, do depend nevertheless upon these four, bay, rushet, black, and grey. For these four colours proceed of four principal humours whereof the body of an horse is composed, and which agree and accord with the fire, air, earth and water. For choler which resembleth the fire engendereth the bay; blood which accordeth with the air, produceth the rushet or radish coloured. Fleame which is answerable to the water, causeth the grey; and melancholy which agreeth with the earth, begetteth the black. The bay hair then excelleth all others, as being that which beareth the sign and mark of a courageous horse: hardy in war, and most singular in justs and combats, in so much as he feareth nothing, nor looseth courage, howsoever he feel himself wounded: because also he seethe not, by reason of his colour, the blood run streaming out of his body. The russet hair betokeneth a quick, hardy, and prompt horse, but not of great force; and the black is melancholy, and unsound: and the grey is heavy, and fearful. Moreover, by how much more these colours are diversified, and mixed with marks, and spots; by so much is the goodness or badness of the horse greater. We may also say truly, 
Of the commodity by Horses.  that amongst all the beasts which God hath created for the service of man; there is not one which may compare with the horse, either in beauty, labour, understanding, or profit, and commodity. For the horse only, serveth for an honourable grace for man: who makes him to go at his pleasure, sometimes softly, sometimes a pace, now a trot, anon a gallop, another time with swift posting speed: and sometimes he playeth with him, causing him to make many rise, and divers curvets, bounds and leaps: another time he maketh him run wheeling about in a round ring, then to bound, and rebound, and lastly to go easily forwards. And by means of this use and exercise, a man chaseth away melancholy humours, fortifieth his stomach and whole body, and augmenteth his disposition, grace, and ability: Moreover there is no journey so difficult, which he will not undertake with a good horse, knowing that he can pass any whither, and save himself from the assaults of thieves, and robbers: yea and oftentimes the horse fighteth with feet and teeth for the safety of his master. But these generous beasts do especially declare their valour and courage in the cruel encounters of battles, and fights, being incited by the fearful noise of gun-shot, by the hideous thundering of cannons, by the sounding of trumpets, and rumbling of drums: then I say when all being in confusion, it seemeth that the earth opens, that the place flies in peecs, and that hell swallows up all, in respect of the shivering of lances, clinking of armour, and the dreadful cries of men, who are there, by thousands, hewn in pieces. And many do scape by the only means of their horses, God showing them such favour as histories are full of testimonies thereof, and of the admirable sense, wherewith nature hath endued these beasts. Amongst which Alexander's horse Bucephalus is very much celebrated, chief because that he would not suffer any to ride him but his master, although he had been clothed in kingly robes. It is also said, that this horse being wounded at an assault of Thebes, he would not permit Alexander to mount upon another, till such time as he had brought him out of all danger. 
Hist. nat. lib. ●. c. 42.  Pliny reporteth, that a certain king of Scythia being overthrown in battle, when his enemy came to disarm him, his horse ran upon him with such fury, that he killed him, revenging so the death of his master: And that after the death of king Nicomedes (who was slain) his horse would never eat, but died through hunger and sorrow: And that one named Antiochus seizing upon an horse of one Galatus slain in fight, mounted thereupon, rejoicing at the death of the other: which the horse of the deadman understanding, did in rage and despite so fling, and run, that he bore Antiochus over mountains, and rocks, casting himself at last down from an high place, so breaking his own and his rider's neck. But we have said enough hereof. Now (ACHITOE) let us hear you continue the discourse concerning beasts.   

Of the Elephant, of the Camel, and of the Rhinoceros. Chap. 84.  ACHITOB. 
IT seemeth that there is no beast, which approacheth nearer to the sense of man then the Elephant. For he is endued with so excellent wit, discretion, and memory, that he surpasseth in these gifts all other beasts: 
Of the Elephant.  as he doth in strength also. He is bigger than two great oxen, covered with black hair, having eyes like to those of swine, and such a mouth also, being covered with a trunk, or snout that hangs down to the ground, which serveth him for an hand to put his victuals into his mouth, both meat and drink: and out of both sides thereof two great tusks do issue, which are fastened in his upper jaw. His ears are two spans broad, his thighs and legs thick and long, in such sort that some are found of fifteen foot high: his nails (being five in number about his feet) are round, and each nail a palm broad, and his tail is about three handfuls long. In many regions of Africa they use these elephants to ride ordinarily upon, and they serve for many domestic businesses also, so that the traffic of them there is as that of horses here. But the Indians use them in the war, putting upon this beast, a certain saddle being girt very straight about him with two iron chains, upon which they set two wooden houses, on either side one, and in each of those houses do three men lodge, between which houses and the elephants neck, is a little seat placed, upon which a man sitteth like as if he were on horse back, who guideth this beast by his words, which he understandeth very well: and he carrieth neither bridle, nor halter, nor any thing else upon his head. And even as they, which are within these houses upon his back are armed with coats of mail, with bows, lances, swords, and targets: so likewise will he be covered with a mail especially upon his head, and snout, to which men fasten a sword of two fathoms in length, thick, and as broad as a man's hand, wherewith this beast doth help himself in fight. In all things else he is of incredible force. For Lewes de Barthema in the discourses of his Indie voyages doth testify that he did see three elephants alone draw a ship out of the sea, and set it a land, after the people had gotten under it three great wedges of wood. For kneeling down upon the earth on the seashore, they did with their heads cast the ship on dry land. 
Lib. 3.  Pliny recordeth many other wonders concerning these beasts, saying, that they honour the stars, and principally the sun and moon; that some have been seen, who being sick, have fallen down backwards, casting up herbs towards heaven, as if they would offer up the fruits of the earth in sacrifice, and prayer to obtain succour from above: that all of them do honour a king, and fall down upon their knees before him, and that they bring chaplets of herbs, and flowers unto him. 
Hist. nat. lib. 8.  That some of them have been seen to record by themselves in the night time, that, which they have been taught in the day time, to the end that they might the better put it in practice. That marching in troops, the eldest amongst them goeth foremost, as captain: and another behind them as ordering the rearward: that intending to pass any river, they put the youngest elephants foremost, knowing that the great elephants would sink lower, because of their excessive heaviness, and would by that means make the fourd more difficult to pass, by reason of the water, which would gather there. That they do no harm except they be provoked thereto; and also that they are so gentle towards other weak beasts, that passing by a flock of small cattle, they will gently turn back with their heads all those beasts which they meet, for fear of hurting them, or treading them under their feet. They are very long lived, even to two hundred or three hundred years, as Aristotle affirmeth: and when the male and female couple together as man and woman, they withdraw themselves for this purpose into most secret and hidden places: and the females bear their young ones for two years together, and do never bring forth but one, and that but once only in their life. Of their teeth is the true ivory made: but because there are but few to be had, therefore some saw and cut in pieces the bones of Elephants, which they sell for ivory. Moreover, Historiographers report that the first time that Elephants were seen at Rome, was in the triumph of Pompey, after he had subdued Africa, for he had two yoked to his chariot: and that in the turnies, and fence-playes which Germanicus Caesar made, to show pastime to the people of Rome, there were Elephants that leapt, as if they would skip and dance: and that forty two Elephants were brought in triumph to Rome after the memorable victory, which Ruscius Metellus did obtain in Sicily against the Carthaginians.  

Of the Camel.  The camel is also a very tractable beast and profitable to man, very ingenious, and apt to receive discipline. For they serve to ride upon, to bear great burdens, and also to show men pastime in many exercises which is taught them by use. There are some in all parts of the world, but they abound in Africa. And the Arabians hold them for their greatest riches and possessions. There are three kinds of them; one whereof is very great, another sort are very little: these two kinds having but one bunch upon their backs: and the other are of mean stature, and have two bunches, each whereof are fit to carry burdens, and to ride upon also: beside, some of them resemble asses in colour, and some are reddish: and they have their hooves almost cloven in two, but not exactly, so that their foot expresseth a kind of semblance of five toes fleshy underneath, which maketh them tender in stony places. The best Camels are those of Africa, because they bear their charges for the space of forty days together, without ever eating any oats, but only such grass as is in the fields, or some boughs: and their least burden is of a thousand weight: being by a natural instinct so urged to the service of man, that with the least touch which may be upon their neck or knees, they will presently bend and kneel upon the ground to receive their load; which when they feel to be answerable to their strength, they rise again upon their feet. There are some of them so swift, that they will run fifty miles and more in one day: but these are of small stature, being good for nothing but to ride upon. The noblemen of Arabia, Numidia, and Africans of Lybia do never use other steeds. And when the king of Tombuto would have any matter of importance to be signified to the merchants of Numidia with speed, he sendeth a Post upon one of his camels, who runneth from Tombuto to Darha, or Segelmessa in the space of seven or eight days, which are about four hundred and fifty French miles: being a country full of deserts, so that the way is very hard to find out, but by the very direction of the Camel itself. When these beasts are lusty, which lasteth for forty days together with them, they wax very fierce and outrageous, and will remember the least blow that their masters shall strike them with a stick: so that if they may fasten their teeth upon any of them, they will lift them up into the air, than cast them down again, and murder them with their forefeet, in terrible and grievous manner: but that time being passed, they become gentle and tractable, as before. They never drink but from five days to five days, and sometimes they stay nine, or fifteen days; whether it be by custom, or that this beast is dry, or else that Nature hath so well provided that this creature which liveth in deserts, should have no need to drink oftentimes in those places, where water is seldom found. He danceth at the sound of the trumpet, and seemeth to rejoice at music, refreshing himself, and taking new courage, then, when (being tired with a tedious journey) his guide beginneth to sing some merry song: 
Lib. 9  and some also have been seen to dance at the sound of a tabor, as the Author of the description of Africa doth testify.  
Now speak we of the Rhinoceros (which is named by some the Bull of India) being admirable amongst other beasts. 
Of the Rhinoceros.  For he is almost as big as the Elephant, his thighs are bigger, of the colour of wood, being all naturally armed with shells, which he beareth like bucklers. He hath in the uppermost part of his forehead an horn for the length of a span or more, very hard, strong, strait, and very sharp, which turneth towards the forehead, and when he will fight he whetteth it. And there are some also which have another little horn upon the skin of their back, which is so hard and difficult to penetrate, that no arrow how sharp soever it be, can pierce it through. And therefore the Indians arm themselves with their skins, as we do with harness and murrions, and cover their horses with it, as we do ours with barbs and armour. This beast hath continual war with the Elephant, and is his great enemy, fight chief with him, yea and with all other beasts, when the female bringeth forth her young ones: of which the male is so careful, that nothing dare come nigh him, but he will wreak his fury thereon. And he remaineth for the most part victorious over the Elephant, if he can pick him under the belly, as being the softe●●… place of all his body. For when the Rhinoceros doth strike him there, he giveth him so deep a wound, that the Elephant can hardly scape death. And he hath this wit naturally, that when he will prepare himself to fight, he whetteth his horn against some rock: which horn the Indians use in many things, and especially against all poison: so that being bitten or stung by any serpent, or other venomous beast, they have their recourse to this horn. Whereupon the author of the universal cosmography taketh occasion to suppose, 
Theu. lib. 11.  that that which is attributed to the Unicorn, is the property of the Rhinoceros, and that the pieces which are showed under the name of Vnicornes-horne, are of the horn of this Indie-beast: considering that there are as many such Unicorns as Pliny, Solinus, and Munster write of, as there be Phenixes or Griffrons. But omitting such disputations, let us consider upon other excellent beasts, the discourse whereof (ASER) I refer to you.   

Of the Lion, of the Tiger and of the Panther. Chapter 85.  ASER. 

Of the Lion.  OF all four-footed beasts, the Lion doth bear away the chief price. He hath a long body of tawny colour, a fierce look, his tail long, which he oftentimes moveth, his hair before soft, and broad, his skin impenetrable: his hinder part narrow, a great head, a wide throat, his neck and teeth so strong, that he can carry away a camel, and he is armed with very great and strong claws: beside he is so hardy that he feareth not alone to assail two hundred men. And then are they in their chiefest strength, when the hair of their neck is so long that it covereth their neck and shoulders. Africa nourisheth many of these beasts, being most cruel, especially in the kingdom of Fez, and in all Aethiopia: but they which keep in the cold mountains are not so dangerous, nor so troublesome to men. For in a little town named (Pietra Rossa) which is very near to a forest that stretcheth out all along the foot of a mountain of the said country, Lions do oftentimes enter, with so great mildness, that they gather together, and eat the bones and other things which they find cast about the streets: and the women and children are so accustomed thereto, that they are in no wise afraid of them. So many Historiographers do write, that the Lion only amongst wild beasts, will do nothing to those that couch and humble themselves before him. And how furious soever he be, yet will he rather run upon a man then at a woman; and will never set upon children, except he be very much oppressed by hunger. He knoweth when the Lioness, who by nature is very lascivious and wanton, doth suffer herself to be covered by the Leopard: and then doth he run furiously upon her to chastise her: which causeth the Lioness to have the craft to go wash herself in some river, to take away the sent of the Leopard, who hath been with her: or else she will follow the Lion a far off, to the end that he may not smell her. This beast drinketh little, and eateth but in one day of twain: and if he be well sufficed, he will remain three days after without eating. When he findeth himself assailed with shot, he declareth his greatness of courage, in that he maketh no account thereof, endeavouring to defend himself by the only hideousnes of his countenance: and it seemeth verily that he protesteth to be constrained to annoy those who pursue him, in defence of himself: in such sort, that rather through rage then for fear of death, he sets him in his own guard. And he demonstrateth also another generosity of hart, in that that feeling himself overmatched both by dogs and hunters, if it be in an open field where he may be seen, he will make semblant to despise and scorn the hounds, sometimes making head against them, and will retire by little and little for his honour, always standing upon his guard: but after that he hath gotten the wood, where he may not be seen to fly, he runs away as fast as he can, knowing very well that the place covereth his shame. If he feel himself strooken and wounded, he can mark him who gave him the blow, and will ever turn upon him, how great a number soever there be of people: and yet for all his fury he quaketh to hear the rumbling of wagons, and is afraid to see a cock which setteth up himself and clappeth his wings, and more afraid when he croweth: but above all he feareth fire. They say also that Lions be never sick but through pride: and that they which nourish them, being minded to chase them, yea to mad them, do tie apes near unto them, whose tricks and gestures they take in scorn; and vex themselves much thereat. But it is strange that these furious and proud beasts, are tamed by the industry of man, even to make them so familiar as to serve them. For histories report, that Marcus Antonius during the civil wars of the Romans; caused Lions to be coupled to endure the yoke, and draw his chariot; and that he entered Rome in triumph in such equipage. That Hanno also, captain of the Carthaginians, did first undertake to touch Lions with his hand, and that he made them go up and down the town like little dogs: whereupon the people doubting so quick and piercing a wit, which could invent how to tame the fiercest beast of all others, took occasion to suppose their common wealth but badly assured in his hands, 
Lib. 1. de. singul. c. 76.  and so they banished him. Belon also in his observations recounteth, that there is an ancient church at Constantinople, to every pillar whereof there is a Lion tied, which the great Turk causeth to be nourished, and that their governors lose them, handle them, and tie them again when they list, sometimes leading them through the city.  

Of the Tiger.  The Tiger approacheth near to the force of the Lion, and is more to be feared, because of his cruelty and swiftness, which they find true who chase after their young ones. For when they carry them away, running with all speed upon good horses, the Tigress returneth to her den, and finding it empty, taketh her course as swift as the wind, following them by the tract, which have rob her of her young ones: who perceiving her approach by the noise that she maketh, use to cast her down one, which she taketh in her mouth, and carrieth to her den with incredible speed, how heavy soever it be: and afterwards returneth to the pursuit of the rest, always pursuing her fawns, till such time as she beholdeth that she cannot come at those who bear them away, because they have gained some town, wherein they are immured. These beasts are very common in Hyrcania, as also in the Indies, and in Aethiopia: and the inhabitants there do hunt them much, because it is a very dangerous beast, which would do much harm if it might multiply: as also because their skin is very fair, whereof they make very excellent furs, which have spots of divers colours, wherewith they clothe themselves. But howsoever cruel the Tiger is, yet the Hyrcanians do nourish and tame them for their pleasure. And Pliny affirmeth, 
Hist. nat. lib. 8. c. 4.  that the Tigress hath such fear and respect of man, that so soon as she perceiveth him out of her den, she presently conveyeth her young ones thence: whereupon this author doth take occasion to admire the power of nature, in that the greatest and cruelest of all beasts do presently understand wherefore to fear, without ever having seen any thing before, which might cause fear. He recounteth also, that the emperor Augustus was the first that ever showed the people of Rome a tame Tigress in a cage, and that after him Claudius Caesar showed four at a time. 
Ibid. c. 17.   
The Panther is another common beast in the regions of of Africa, very savage, and whom the inhabitants dread much. 
Of the Panther.  Some say that the Lucernes and Leopards are one kind of beasts, and that they serve for males to the Panther, not differing from them but in whiteness, which is very great in her, having little black spots set upon her body, in manner of eyes. Also very fair furs are made of her skin, which are called Lucernes. Moreover some say that all fowerfooted beasts do very much love the smell of the Panther: but the fierceness of her countenance doth fear them: and that to entrap other by her odour, she hides her head that she may catch them. Some also writ that she hath a mark upon her shoulder like to an half moon, which augmenteth and decreaseth as the moon doth. This kind of beasts have the craft to watch passengers in woods, hiding themselves close in the thickest groves of trees which they can find; out of which they start upon them like thieves. And they have this by nature, to fold in their claws, when they go, that they may always keep them sharp & unbroken: and can open them when they will, & shut them when they grasp any thing. But omitting the fierceness of this beast, who will not greatly admire the sense and imagination of a certain Panther whereof Pliny writeth? 
Lib. 8. c. 17.  She desiring to meet with some passenger, lurked close in the midst of an high way: One by chance coming thither, & finding her, would for fear have turned his bridle to flee. But the poor beast couched and fell down before him, making signs to fawn upon him, and moaned, and tormented herself in such sort, as he might easily understand thereby that she was in great pain: and indeed her young ones were fallen into a pit far off from that place. The man taking heart, at the beasts manners, who drew him gently by the garment, did follow her to the same pit: whither being come, and knowing the occasion of the panther's grief, he drew her young ones out of the place whereinto they were fallen, delivering by this means, their dam of pain, and redeeming also his own life. For this beast, which could have bereft him of it, did contrariwise in acknowledgement of the benefit received by him, leaping, and skipping with her little ones, keep the man company out of the forest, showing him by many signs, that she rendered thanks unto him. But here change we talk: and let us hear you (AMANA) deliver that which you have learned concerning the nature of other beasts.   

Of the Wolf, of the Bear, and of the Ape. Chapter 86.  AMANA. 
AMongst all savage beasts, there are none more common than the Wolf. For Asia, Africa, Europe, and many places of that fourth part of the world, which late Cosmographers and other famous men have by their long navigations discovered, do nourish these creatures. And although many have thought that England had none of them, yet there are some found in sundry places, and especially about Barwick. And in times past the country hath been much vexed by them. But histories record, that Edgar their king, who lived in the time of Lotharius king of France, a very politic prince, being advertised of the spoil which these beasts did, made an edict throughout his land, that every Nobleman should bring unto him each year ten wolves, or else the skins of them; and that the prince of Wales, as he who received greatest commodity by hunting of them, should every year bring him an hundred. Whereby it came to pass that in less than ten years, there was no mention made of any of those beasts. Now though they be very common, yet are they therefore worthy of no less consideration, 
Of the Wolf.  and wonder. Many authors have written concerning their shape, manners, nature, and differences, as also how to hunt and take them. There be few which are ignorant, that the wolf is a beast having grey hair, mixed with black, whitish under the belly, a big head armed with long and strong teeth: and short, and stiff ears, whereupon the proverb arose (I hold the wolf by the ears) when he which speaketh is in doubt of what he shall do. This beast feeds only upon flesh, save sometimes on fish, although Aristotle and Pliny write, 
Arist. lib. 8. ch. 5. de. hist. anima.  that being oppressed with hunger he eateth earth. But indeed this opinion did first spring, because that these beasts are oftentimes seen to dig up the fields for flesh, which they bury after they have had their fill, to serve them when they want aught to pray upon. When they be sick, they know how to use certain herbs, to make them vomit, and to loosen their belly: And their custom is to assail weak and fearful persons that travail alone, much rather than hunters. They are so known to the fisher men along the lake of Meotis (as Pliny reporteth) that these honest people are wont to give them part of their fish: which if they fail to do, 
Hist. nat. lib. 10. c. 8.  they will in the night time tear and break their nets. When the she wolf hath young ones, if she find herself oppressed with dogs, or men, she taketh one of her whelps in her mouth to bear away, that she may not lose them all. And she never leaves them except the he wolf remain for their guard, going both by turns out for victuals: and if they have taken any beast, they bring it unto their whelps, laying it down before them to feed upon: If they be somewhat big, they will then bring home some lamb alive, to make them kill it, and teach them their craft. But I find nothing more admirable in the nature of the wolf then that which hath been noted by the author of the country farm, 
Auth. de la Maison rustic.  that there breed and engender certain serpents in the kidneys of an old wolf: which being grown do at last work their breeders death, and become very venomous things. Concerning the subtlety and craft of wolves to entrap their preys, it is very well known by every one, being to the great hurt of people; but their industry is very great in forests, where they can tell how to hunt the Hart & does, watching them in fresh places, as hound's should do, yea they can direct themselves, like a course of greyhounds to watch & lurk in the borders of the wood, whilst others hunt within. Besides, it is a common thing, and many have written thereof; yea Isidore himself, that if a wolf espy a man before the man perceive him, he can take away his voice; because that with his corrupt breath he infecteth the air: which being so putrefied doth also corrupt the breath of the man, near to the said beast, whereby he remaineth deprived of voice, and hoarse, howsoever he be endamaged thereby: and that is it which hath begotten the common proverb (Lupus est in fabula) which is said, when one speaking of another, that comes in unlooked for, doth hold his peace, as if that the other party's arrival had taken away his voice and speech. But if the wolf be first seen by a man, it is thought that this malicious effect is not of so great power, and that he looseth much of his fierceness: the cause whereof may be that knowing himself discovered, he hath not the leisure to spread abroad his venom, and instead of running upon the man, he deviseth how he may run and fly from him. If this reason be of any value, I do not think that it hath been yet written by any one, at leastwise as I have read or heard. There is also another kind of Wolves, 
Of the Lynx.  called Lynx, the fur of whom Princes wear, which (as Pliny saith) resemble other wolves, but that they are spotted like Leopards. And Oppianus writeth that they are engendered by a Wolf and a Panther: yet that cannot be affirmed of the Lynx of Germany, for there are no Panthers.  

Of the Bear.  The Bear is a beast, in whom many things are found worthy to be noted. Barbary and Newfoundland nourish a great number, whom the inhabitants do hunt after divers manners. But they do chief entrap them by means of certain deep pits, covered over with leaves and branches, which they dig in the way that these beasts are accustomed to frequent, and especially near unto trees, where there is some swarm of Bees: for the Bear loveth honey above all other meat, whether it be for that he delights to glut himself therewith, or else to heal the soreness of eyes whereto he is very subject: and so passing upon these pits, he falleth thereinto, and is there slain by these Barbarians. The male when he covereth the female, doth embrace her, as man doth woman; and the she Bear being full doth retire apart into her den, not bearing above thirty days, and doth oftentimes bring forth five Beare-whelpes: which at first do seem to be but an heap of white flesh, without any form, without eyes, without hair, and is as small as a mouse, with some little appearance of nails, but through very much licking the she Bear reduceth them into such form as they have. When this beast is unprovided of a cave, he buildeth his lodging with wood; of which he makes so huge an heap, and piles it so well, that the rain cannot enter thereinto. After that he paves it, and makes his litter with the softest leaves of trees that he can find. In winter time the male keepeth within his den for forty days long, and never bougeth, and the female for four months: and the first fourteen days they sleep so profoundly, that it is impossible to wake them, though they be beaten with staves: and one would not think how fat they then be: this time being past, they sit upon their tail and live of nothing else, but by sucking their forefeet. Being come forth of their den, they first eat of the herb called Wake-Robbin, or Cuckowpintle, to open their pipes, which are all as it were stopped up. Their food is corn, leaves of trees, grapes, apples, honey, crevices, and ants: which they use especially licking them up with their tongues from off the ground, when they are sick with eating the fruit of Mandrakes: for by this means they heal themselves. They go upright upon their hinder feet when they list, & descend down trees backwards. And when they fight against the bull, or other horned beast, they hang themselves by all their four feet upon them, and upon their head, that they may thereby tyre their enemy, and so vanquish him. To conclude, there is no creature more subtle in his simplicity.  
But if we would speak of crafty beasts, 
Of the Ape.  subtle in all agility and sport, then must we have respect to the Ape. For nature hath bestowed very good sense and marvelous craft upon him. Also he doth very near approach to the shape of man, both in his form of countenance, nose, eyes, and eyelids: the under part of which there is no beast that hath except the Ape. He hath also nipples upon his breast like a man, and useth his hands and legs as man; having nails and fingers made and disposed as ours, of which the middle most is longest. His entrails likewise are almost like to those of man. Africa and many Isles of the Newfound lands nourish these creatures in great plenty, and of divers kinds; some whereof are called Monckeys, and they have long tails; and others are jacks or Marmusets', and they have none: they live of herbs, and corn: and when they mean to steal some cares of corn, there assemble twenty or thirty of them together, and one stays for a scout out of the field, where he no sooner espieth the Lord of the ground to come, but he squeaks very loud, at whose cry all the rest run away, and do save themselves by nimble flight, climbing up trees, and skipping from one to another, yea and the she apes, with their young ones upon their shoulders, will leap from tree to tree like the rest. And they are commonly so fond of their young ones, that with too often embracing, and too much clasping them, they at last kill them. They which are tamed and taught, do marvelous and incredible things. Besides the author of the universal cosmography hath noted, 
Lib. 3. c. 16.  that in the solitary Island there are Apes, greater, unhappier, and wilder than are in all the world else, which be named Maggots: who being seen a far off, a man would judge them to be humane people. Whereupon he thinketh that some are a little deceived, who have written concerning Savages, and men being rough all over their bodies like goats, living upon snails and raw flesh, having perhaps taken such Maggots, (because they have not been near to distinguish them) for very men. But enough of this, I would now have you (ARAM) to pursue the subject of our discourse.   

Of the Hart, of the Boar, and of the Unicorn. Chapter 87.  ARAM. 
I Will now speak of the most gentle and simple beast of all the world, 
Of the Hart.  in his nature, and which nevertheless is endued with great force, which he sometimes useth to the cost of those who hunt him: and that is the Hart or Stag, in whose chase great Lords take much pleasure. He is so simple that he museth, & is astonished at every thing: in such sort, as if he see a cow or an horse come near unto him, he never taketh regard who rides him; or if he perceive him, he looks down at his feet, as if he were amazed, what bow & arrows, or weapons soever he have. He museth also at the songs and piping of shepherds. When stags be not in rut, they are very sharp at their victuals: and feeling themselves fat, they search out solitary places apart, and there abide, knowing very well, that they are not then apt for the course, & that they are then also chief hunted. Being pursued, they do ofttimes stay their flight to take breath, and look here & there round about them; but when they perceive the hounds that follow them, they run as before. And they make these stops, by reason of a certain pipe, which doth greatly pain them, and which is so tender, that it presently breaketh with the least wound that may be. They endeavour to run with the wind, that it may carry with them the sent away from the hounds, so that they may not easily take them. They hear a far off, and have a very good ear, when they stand upon their feet: but if they lie down they be very deaf. Pliny recounteth, 
Hist. nat. lib. 8. c. 32.  that when the hearts or stags of Cilicia will pass from thence into Cyprus, they swim over the sea, but always in troops, and in order, resting the heads of the one upon the crupper of the other, and that by turns, in such sort, that the hindermost go before in their turn, and the foremost turn behind: directing their course by the smell of the land, because they cannot see the shore. The bucks only are armed with horns, and they alone of all beasts cast their horns every spring-time: yet some have seen (but very seldom) horned-does marked to twelve years. When they feel that their horns will fall, they seek out the most solitary and desert places that they can find, whether it be to hide them because they are ashamed to have lost their arms, or else to disappoint men of the benefit that doth redound unto them thereby, for their horn hath many properties in use. And many say that of those horns which hearts cast: the right are never found again, so that it is holden for certain, that they bury their right horn. Their age is known by their heads, because that every year they have a knag more, and there are some seen that are marked to two and twenty: Beyond which, none doth note their age, although they live much longer. For Histories record that above an hundred years after the death of Alexander the Great, there was an Hart taken, about whose neck this Prince whilst he lived had put a collar of gold, and that he was grown so great afterwards, and so fat, that the said collar was hid within his flesh, and covered with his skin. Moreover, stags do change their place of abode, and their food according as the sun doth approach in height. For in the month of November, they keep themselves to bushes and briars, the tops whereof they eat to restore their nature after they have been in rut. In December they withdraw themselves into the thickest of forests, which may defend them from the cold winds, snows and ye. In januarie they come to the borders of the forests, and to tilled lands, to feed on green corn, as rye, and such like. In February and March, because they lose and cast their horns, they thrust themselves amongst the bushes, wherein they remain all April and May. In june and july they go into woods and cornfields, and then are they fattest. And in September and October they leave their woods, and fall to rut: and then have they neither any certain place, nor meat, because they follow the ways which the does have passed: living then with a little, and feeding upon what they chance to meet with.  

Of the Boar.  The Boar is another beast, in whose chase many exercise themselves, and take singular pleasure: but as the Hart is gentle and fearful; so is the Boar hardy and furious, not fearing the dogs, but attendeth for them in quiet, and oftentimes also he pursueth them, to tear them in pieces with his teeth; the biting whereof, chief in the chest of the body is almost incurable. His place of abode is never certain; & therefore some say he is but a guest, because he doth but run out of one forest & wood into another: and yet he delighteth to remain in the same country and place wherein he was first farrowed: so that if any dogs chase him out of any wood or forest, he presently runs without any stay to his native place, which he supposeth to be his safeguard and refuge. The meat which he liketh best, is hasell-nuts, beech-mast, and acorns. His flesh is better than harts-flesh: And therefore the ancient Romans made such account thereof, that in their most magnificent banquets, they would serve in whole Boars to be set upon the table. 
Hist. nat. lib. 11. c. 53.  Yet Pliny saith, that the Boars of the mountains in Pamphilia and Cilicia, having eaten Salamanders, become very venomous; in such sort as they poison those that eat of their flesh. Besides, when these beasts feel themselves more heavy then of custom, they seek for ivy, and eat thereof: or else for crabs, which they find in sand when the sea ebbs. The sow or female beareth but once a year, although the Boar be very apt to cover her. And the Author of the aforesaid natural history doth affirm unto us, that in the Indies there are very great wild bores, which have two tusks in their mouth of a cubit long, and two other that issue out of their front like the horns of a cow. And Cardanus saith, that in the same country there are bores like to others in form, in voice and manners, and in their litteridge, which are grown in two months, and yet are smaller than coneys, and can scarce bite: differing nothing from other, save that they have five or six toes upon their feet instead of nails.  
But let us leave these fierce beasts, to consider upon some others, and let us speak first of the Unicorn, 
Of the Unicorn.  which at this day is so greatly esteemed of, the horn of whom is holden of great virtue in physic, and singular against all poisons. 
Hist. nat. lib. 8. c. 21.  Pliny describeth the Unicorn, to have a body altogether like an horse, an head like an heart, feet of an Elephant, and the tail of a boar, bearing an horn in the midst of his front, of two cubits in length: and he saith that these beasts are nourished in the land of the Orsians in India. Lewes de Barthema in his navigations into Arabia, affirmeth that he did at Mecca see two Unicorns: and saith that the body and colour of this beast is like an horse, of a dark grey, having feet cloven before, and hoofed like a goat. And that these two beasts had been given to the Sultan of Mecca, for a very rich and precious present, by a king of Aethiopia, to the end to have peace with him. 
Lib. 1. de observat. c. 14.  Belon hath observed out of the testimonies of divers authors, that there are two sorts of beasts, who bear one horn only; one of which is the Ass of India, which hath not cloven feet; and the other is the Orix, being a kind of goat, that hath cloven feet. And he maketh mention of many unicorns horns, esteemed to be of very great price: especially of two, which are in the treasury of Saint Marks at Venice; each of them being of a cubit and half long, the greatest end whereof exceedeth not above three inches over. He speaketh also of that which our king hath, which is at Saint Denis, being seven foot long, and weigheth thirteen pounds, and four ounces, in fashion like a taper, being broad at the lower end about a plame and three fingers, and so groweth less and less towards the end, and hath a pit in the great end above a foot deep, which is the place, wherein the bone is fastened that holds it firm to the head of the beast that beareth it. But this author doth mock at the folly of those, who many times do buy pieces of bone, which are cut of the teeth of the Rohart, & of the horns and ribs of many other beasts, for true unicorns horn; paying sometimes for one of these little pieces three hundred ducats: so much is unicorns horn esteemed, being most excellent for many uses in physic. Thevet also flouteth at these abuses, 
Lib. 5. de co●mog.  and at many fables invented upon this matter: alleging that he had seen an horn taken from a beast of a clean contrary shape to that, which the Unicorn is described to be of, whereto the same virtue was nevertheless attributed. And that the country of the Savages breedeth a beast called Pyrassouppi, as big as the foal of a Mule having almost such an head, as rough as a Bear, and cloven footed like an Hart, which beareth two long strait horns, that do come near to unicorns horn: and wherewith the Savages cure themselves when they be bitten and wounded by venomous beasts and fishes. But now change we our talk, and (ACHITOB) let us hear you speak again concerning some of the most rare and worthy beasts of the Earth.   

Of the Hyena or Civet-cat, of the Musk-cat, of the Beaver, and of the Otter. Chap. 88  ACHITOB. 
IF in all our discourses we have any worthy matter, wherein to admire the works of God in the nature which he hath ordained unto them, we shall find no less in the consideration of these, whereof I purpose now to speak, the odour of whom is very sweet. And amongst the rest the Civet cat called by ancients the Hyena, is worthy of great marvel. For from her cometh an excrement so odoriferous, that assoon as it is smelled, doth pierce through all the senses and spirits, and serveth to compose very excellent perfumes. 
Of the Hyena.  This beast is fashioned like a Bedovant but of bigger body, having black hairs about her neck, & along the ridge of her back, which she setteth upright being angry. She is mouthed like a cat, and hath fiery and red eyes with two black spots under them, and round ears like unto those of a Badger. Besides she hath white hair, full of black spots upon her body; with a long tail black above, but having some white spots underneath. The ancients have spoken of this beast as of a wild cat, 
Lib. 9  and john Leo in his description of Africa, doth name her so, saying that she is common in the woods of Aethiopia, where the people do catch her with her young, whom they nourish in cages with milk, and porridge made of bran and flesh: and that they receive civet from her twice or thrice a day, which is the sweat of this beast: for they beat her with a little stick, making her leap up and down about the cage, till such time as she doth sweat, which they take off from under her thighs, 
●. Lib. obseru. ●. 20.  and tail, and that is it which is called civet. Belon reporteth to have seen one in Alexandria, so tame, that playing with men, she would bite their noses, ears and lips, without doing them any harm: and that she was always nourished with women's milk. Mathiolus likewise saith, that he hath seen many Civet cats at Venice, which had been brought out of Syria, and attributeth certain properties to their excrements; for which cause they have been more sought after now; then in the days of our fathers: so that they are nourished at this day even in France. 
Lib. 1. de. Dici. c. 20. De. subt. lib. 10.  Cardanus also maketh mention of a beast called Zibetum, which is found in Spain, that is like to a cat, and carrieth a bladder in her members, the seed whereof is received into a spoon, being of so excellent an odour, that three drops thereof surmounteth the weight of three pounds of any odoriferous tree.  
But the Musk-cat doth yet surpass all other odour, 
Of the Musk-catte.  and meriteth all marvel in the nature thereof. For it is a beast like unto a goat in form and hair, but that she is of a more bluish colour, and hath but one horn, and is bigger of body. There are many in Africa, but chief in Tumbasco and Sini. When this beast is in rut, with the heat and rage that he than endureth, his navel swelleth, and filleth itself with a certain blood, in manner of an impostume: which at length through much wallowing, and rubbing against trees, he maketh to break, out of which runneth this blood, being half corrupted, which in tract of time becometh very odoriferous. And the people of the country do gather it amongst stones, or upon the stocks of trees, as the best musk that is: because it is full ripe, after that it hath rested some certain time out of the body of the beast which engendereth it, and that it hath been perfectly concocted by the sun; which the other musk cannot be, that is taken out of the living beast, after that it is catched in chase. And therefore this most precious musk is shut up and reserved in boxes, and in the bladders of such of these beasts, as have at any time been taken, to serve to such uses as it is fit for: whereupon cometh that there are musks very different in goodness. For there is but little brought to us in true bladders of this perfect musk, being ripe, and gathered as before said: but all the flesh of this beast being beaten together with the bones, is commonly put into an old bladder, and sold us for pure musk. Which we may very well know in that we usually find little pieces of bone in our musk. And yet this same thus prepared smelleth so sweetly, that we may easily judge, how precious and exquisite the odour of the true and perfect musk is.  

Of the Castoreum.  The Castoreum which proceedeth from the Beaver, is also very much esteemed for the virtue of the sent thereof. This beast is as big as a dog, long, gentle, of black and a shining hair, with a very long tail, and feet like a goose, having strong teeth, and so sharp, that he useth them as a saw to saw and cleave timber, whereof he maketh himself a lodging with marvelous cunning. They are found near to the river of Ister, or Danubius, and near to the Rhine also, and in many places of Africa. In his stones doth lie a most exquisite liquor, which is proper to him: And therefore Pliny reporteth, 
Hist. nat. lib. 8. c. 30.  that the Beaver feeling himself oppressed with hunters, biteth off his stones with his teeth, as if he knew wherefore he were pursued: and that is it which Physicians call Castoreum. 
De subt. lib. 10.  Cardanus affirmeth that this beast is a kind of Otter, even as house-wesels are a kind of wild wesels. For (saith he) in one self same kind of beasts, nature doth by little and little convert itself from small to great ones, from foul to fair ones, and from weak to strong ones. Besides the Otter (called by Pliny Lutra) liveth commonly in the earth, 
Of the Otter.  and in the water, and hath hair softer than feathers: and his stones are fit and profitable for the same that Castoreum is. But (as Matthiolus hath very well noted) the use of strange compositions doth bring many discommodities to those, 
De Dios. lib. 6. c. 25.  which think to serve themselves therewith, because they are either sophisticate, or corrupted before they come to us. And therefore he saith, that the use of pontic or common Castoreum, which is black with rottenness and putrefaction, is very venomous. But me thinketh (companions) that we stretch out too long our discourse concerning terrestrial beasts, considering that we have not undertaken to write a perfect history of them, but only to set before our eyes some of the most rare & most excellent, to make us meditate upon, & to admire the works of God. There are many authors out of which one may gather the entire knowledge of living creatures, and especially out of Aristotle, who hath described their nature in fifty books, by the commandment of Alexander the great; and after him, Pliny hath declared unto us, in his natural history many things concerning the same subject, which were not known before. Wherefore as when we entreated of the spheres & meteors, we referred all to the true astronomy & philosophy of Christians: so let us now do as much upon 〈◊〉 discourse concerning beasts, reducing all that which we have spoken to an inward meditation upon the providence of God, considering that the effects thereof do continually appear in the commodity, profit, and utility which redound unto us by these creatures, yea by the most venomous of them: as (ASER) you may give us to understand.   

Of the right use of venomous creatures, and wild beasts; and of the justice and bounty of God which shineth in them. Chapter 89.  ASER. 
WE must needs believe for a principle, that if sin had not entered into the world, there had never any creature been hurtful unto man. For he had been a peaceable Lord, and master of all living things, and all things had been obedient unto him, if he had been obedient unto God, as he ought to have been. 
Genes. 7.  We have a clear testimony thereof, after the fall of Adam, in those beasts which came unto Noah at the flood, to enter and remain within the ark with him: 
Dan. 6.  as also in those lions into whose den Daniel was cast. But as man hath been very rebellious towards God, not acknowledging him for his Lord, according as duty did require him: even so all creatures, which should show obedience to man, not only have been, and are rebellious towards him, but do also many times make war against him, and do greatly annoy him, even according as it pleaseth the sovereign Lord to chastise and punish the sins of men, by the means of them. In this sort than must we think upon venomous and cruel beasts, who do not only seek to hurt us, but do also serve the wicked, wherewith to compound their poisons. For we behold how God hath created many and divers kinds of them, who being good in their nature, insomuch as they have all been created by God, and in that he is a worker, who cannot perform any evil business, they do nevertheless oftentimes greatly hurt men, in stead of ministering aid unto them, yea they do sometimes also work their death. And therefore we must consider, that the fault doth not proceed from the creature created good, but from the sinn●●…n, being punished by the just judgement of God, by such scourges of his justice, as it pleaseth him to make choice of the work nevertheless, which he hath done by his creatures remaining good, insomuch as it serveth to chastise those, who do deserve it.  

Of the divers uses of venomous beasts.  There are in earth, and in the sea many very venomous beasts, who by their poison kill men, as are serpents, vipers, scorpions, and such like. And although it may seem that these creatures have been created only but to do hurt: yet hath not God given their being without good and just reason. For he hath so well disposed all things, that venims and poisons themselves serve very well for many other uses then to kill, and impoison: for they are profitable and necessary in many occasions, and serve for medicines and remedies in divers accidents. And concerning their particular effects, which turn to the damage of man, besides that which we have said, that they are instruments of the divine vengeance upon sin; God will thereby moreover make them acknowledge, and perceive their infirmity, and what all humane power is, when it riseth up against his majesty, and that men think to resist him. For who may be so dull, and disfurnished of reason, that cannot understand how unsure their life is, and how feeble their force and power; considering that there needeth but some small venomous herb, or some little portion of other venom and poison, or the stinging of some small beast, or the biting of some others, which are but as worms creeping upon the earth, I do not only say greatly to torment, but also to bereave of life the greatest, and most fearful giant, or prince in all the world. Herein then have we a goodly example to teach us to know what we are, what we can do, and how we must fear, and be in continual doubt, though we suppose ourselves to be never so strong and mighty. And we may also instruct ourselves, when we behold that there is no man so assured but that is somewhat moved, and receiveth some fear, yea and many times very much, at the only sight and meeting of an adder, or viper, or of some other venomous beast. We may also imagine that if the eternal creator of every soul, doth show himself so much to be feared in such small and vile creatures, who do not subsist, nor retain any power, but such as proceedeth from him, what might this be in comparison of his whole puissance, if he would declare it upon his enemies? But indeed this need not, because he can do his pleasure by far less force: 
Exod. 8. Psal. 78. & 105. Nomb. 11.  as when he was displeased with the proud arrogancy, and perverse obstinacy of Pharaoh, and of the Egyptians, who held the God of the Hebrews in disdain, he would not war upon them with great armies of men, but did only raise up troops of frogs, of flies, and of louse, against which the proud tyrants could not resist, but remained vanquished. Again, how did he after that chastise his people in the wilderness by fiery serpents? How many times afterwards did he bring many people into extreme necessity, as if a strong army, 
Levit. 26. Deut. 28. joel. 1.  or fire had passed through their country, and that only by cankerwormes, caterpillars, grasshoppers, and such like vermin, wherewith he threateneth those that rebel against his statutes? And do we not consider what vexation oftentimes flies, lice, worms, rats and mice, do put us unto? Have we not goodly occasion to be proud, high minded, and to esteem much of ourselves, seeing that there is not so much power in us as to invent the means how to defend and save ourselves from such little creatures, who trouble us day and night, both at home and abroad? And may we not hereby judge, how we could defend ourselves from wolves, bears, lions, tigers, and other savage and wild beasts, in whom there is no doubt, but that we have very evident signs and testimonies proposed of the wrath and fury of God? For who is so stout that is not much scared to encounter with, or to hear the voice only of any of these beasts? We know that God hath menaced the transgressors of his commandments with them. For he saith thus, [I will send the teeth of beasts upon them, with the venom of serpents creeping in the dust. 
Deut. 32. Ose. 13. 2. King. 7. 2. King. 2. ] And so hath he oftentimes done in the land of Samaria, and in judea, yea not sparing the young children, as was declared in them, who were devoured by the bears, because they mocked the Prophet Eliseus. How many such examples of the wrath of God, do Histories set before our eyes that have been executed in the days of our fathers; yea amongst us, who cannot be ignorant how that many times wolves have devoured little children, digging down the house sides for them, they being close by their parents? Wherefore sith the Lord did say by Amos [The lion hath roared, 
Amos. 3.  who will not be afraid? The Lord God hath spoken, who can but prophesy?] Let us learn two things: first, that if the only voice of the lion terrify those which hear it, by much more reason must the word of God move us: secondly, that the true servants of God cannot be silent, when the Lord shall have commanded them to speak: but will attribute all glory to his name not standing in fear of venomous serpents, wild beasts, and other scourges of his wrath, but dreading the Omnipotent only, who executeth vengeance upon the wicked, when, and how he pleaseth.  

Of the bounty of God which shineth in venomous beasts.  And as by this discourse, we must acknowledge the image of God being angry, and the pattern of his fury in all those creatures, which may hurt us, and how much he is to be feared and dreaded in his most high Majesty, considering that his judgements are so terrible, being executed but by the smallest creatures of the earth: so on the other side must we consider upon the great bounty and benignity of God, of which he gives us testimonies, not only in beasts created to the only purpose to serve and profit man; but also in those which seem not to have been made, but only for their hurt. For as we have already said, venims and poisons may serve to many other uses, then to kill men, and venomous beasts are not so full of poison throughout all their body, but that they may profit in sundry occasions: witness the viper (a most fearful serpent) whose flesh is very requisite in the composition of true treacle, which is a most sovereign remedy against all venom and poison. And there are many very dangerous diseases, against which this flesh of the viper and of other serpents is very profitable, according to the testimony of physicians. Who likewise teach, that the Scorpion (whose stinging is mortal) carrieth with him the true remedy for health, if he be brayed, and laid upon the wound which he hath made; or else if being burnt, the ashes of him be drunk with wine. But how many rare properties do they assign to the oil which is made of scorpions? In brief to speak in a word, there is no beast so venomous, none so savage, none so cruel, be it great or small, by which men may not receive much profit, if their nature were well known. All which we may better learn, if we consider how that many creatures are nourished with that, which to others is venom and poison: the discourse whereof (AMANA) let us receive from you.   

Of the nourishment of many animals, by that which is venom and poison to others; and of the natural amity and enmity which is amongst them. Chap. 90.  AMANA. 
IT may seem to many, that hornets, caterpillars, cankerworms, grasshoppers, spiders, and such like vermin, were not created to any other end, save to endamage men: but though we do omit a thousand properties, which all these creatures have by nature serving to use in physic, and that we do but only consider, how they serve for food and nourishment to many other creatures: yet shall we in this have enough wherein to acknowledge the profit, which doth return unto us from most vile and contemptible creatures; and by so much the more magnify the providence of God, who ordaineth all things for our good. For it is very certain, that these small creatures (which otherwise seem to be unprofitable) do serve for food and meat to birds and fowls, and to such fishes as we do ordinarily eat of, so that we may rightfully say, that we ourselves are nourished by caterpillars, grasshoppers, and such other vermin, considering that we eat those beasts that devour them, and do live upon them. Let us but only note the meat which Turkey-cocks, and other common fowls, whom we so carefully bring up for us to feed upon, do most seek after. Certainly, there is no beast which eateth more uncleanely and filthy meat, for they spare neither serpents nor toads: and yet we esteem of their flesh, eggs and chickens, as of very good and delicate meat. This is in truth a marvelous kind of natural chimistrie and inimitable art, 
Excellent chimistrie in the nature of beasts.  so to sublimate that which of itself is poison, and would prove so to man, that having passed through the limbeck and fire of a small creature, it is not only purged thereby from all annoyance; but doth also sustain life, and serve afterwards for wholesome nurture to man. And do we not behold, that the nightingale and the wood-sparrow (are fat with eating venomous spiders) which serve both for meat and a medicine to them? Pliny hath written, that dear and quails do feed upon poison, 
Hist. nat. lib. 10. c. 72. Lib. 11. c. 53.  and yet every one knoweth that their flesh is a delicious kind of meat. But what another wonder is this which the same author declareth, that there be certain beasts which are not venomous of themselves, and yet are dangerous meat, when they have eaten any venomous beast or herb? For in the mountains of Pamphilia and of Cilicia, the bores that have eaten Salamanders, are very venomous; in such sort as they poison those who eat of their flesh: and yet they themselves can convert such poison to their own nourishment. What reason can we give of so excellent a secret in the nature of beasts? I have never yet learned any reason of the Philosophers. Let us then stay at the admirable effects of the providence of God, who in those beasts, which we do commonly eat for our sustenance, doth perform this marvelous chimistrie whereof we but now spoke, and who causeth the force of poisons to be spent in the deserts, to the small hurt of man, to the end that his omnipotency, bounty and benignity may be declared in all things towards us.  

Of the natural amity, and enmity of beasts.  Moreover, have we not also worthy matter, whereby to give glory to his name, in that he hath created the beasts so different in nature, with a natural and secret amity, and enmity which they do greatly bear one towards another? For it is very certain, that God maketh all this serve to the profit and commodity of men: in so much as there is a kind of amity commonly in private and tame beasts, towards such as they are, all serving him who hath been established for their master: and that enmity doth rather remain amongst wild beasts, as also in tame beasts towards the wild: In such sort as many savage beasts, which do nothing but harm, have by this means many of their own kind their adversaries to make head against them, and to resist them in whatsoever they would do. But we may especially wonder in that the most mighty, great and strong beasts, yea the most furious and cruel are commonly put in fear, by the smallest and most weak. For what is an hog in regard of an Elephant? or a cock in respect of a lion? there seemeth to be no comparison betwixt them: And yet the only voice and grunting of an hog maketh the Elephant afraid; and the lion is not only seized with fear at the crowing of the cock, but is much troubled when he seethe him but set up his crest. Also there are very little beasts, who do not only put very great and cruel ones in fear, but do also kill them: as the Ichneumon, which is a little rat of India, doth kill the great and cruel crocodile (a most dangerous serpent) cleaving and piercing his belly, after it is secretly entered thereinto through the mouth of this beast, which is able to devour men, and yet striketh no fear into this feeble creature. 
Hist. nat. lib. ●. c. 24.  Which (as Pliny recordeth) hath another war against the Aspis, over whom it remaineth victorious by this mean. It doth many times wallow and tumble in the dirt, and as many times doth dry itself in the sun: then feeling itself sufficiently armed with slime, it assaileth the aspis, always holding up the tail against him, to receive the blows thereupon, which the serpent shall strike, wherewith he can in no wise offend the body of the Ichneumon: in the mean space it picketh out some such fit place to strike him through the throat, that he therewith dieth: and presently after it doth prepare itself, as before, to fight with another. In this discourse we may behold a perfect image of humane things, considering that we cannot be ignorant, how that it cometh oftentimes to pass, that God abateth the most mighty and strong tyrants, by the most lowly and abject persons; and kings, princes and high-esteemed people, by mean and very lowe-esteemed men. And let us also note, that although the amity and enmity amongst living creatures, proceedeth from a certain instinct of nature, so disposed by the creator, and the causes whereof are either hidden, or hardly known: that nevertheless, the best reason, and most certain which may be alleged concerning those examples, which we have here touched, is, that God would declare unto us in them, how he doth mock at the pride and arrogancy of men, and at all their puissance and force. For if he bestow so much power upon little beasts, as to affright, yea even to slay the most furious, and that he can overthrow, and destroy the most stout and valiant amongst men, by their own selves, how much more should he astonish them, if with his almighty hand he should beat down their pride, and punish their sins in his ire? Though the people (saith the prophet) rage and murmur; 
Psal. 2.  though king's band themselves, and princes be assembled together against the Lord, yet he that dwelleth in the heavens shall laugh, the Lord shall have them in derision, also they shall perish in the way, when his wrath shall suddenly burn.  
Now concerning that, which particularly respecteth the amity betwixt private and domestical beasts, and their hate towards those that are wild, although that the nearest cause be very evident (as that they do love one another, because they are nourished together, and receive no damage one from another, hating the wildness of those, who desire to devour them) yet must we pass farther, and acknowledge another more remote, and yet most certain cause therein, which is a natural instinct to conserve and multiply their own kind for the utility and service of man, according as the bounty and benignity of our God hath by his admirable providence disposed of their nature, whereupon let us hear you (ARAM) plot out the subject of your discourse.   

Of the utility that cometh unto men by beasts, and chief by private and domesticall-tame beasts, and of the wonderful providence of God, which declareth itself in them. Chap. 91.  ARAM. 
SIthence God hath so disposed all things by his providence for the good, and commodity of men, that they may receive some profit even out of the most venomous, cruel, and savage beasts, as we have already heard: we may in no wise doubt (as indeed experience doth daily teach us) but that they do receive great aid and help from private and tame beasts, as are sheep, kine, oxen, bulls, asses, mules, horses and such like. For we are served with their labours, and travail, with their fruit, with their flesh, with their wool, and with their skins. For from whence receive we our clothing, except linen, but from beasts? With how many sorts of wools and of skins do they furnish us? 
Of the commodity that men have by tame beasts.  And from whence have we the silks, cloth, and works which are made and which serve to  the most stout and proud tyrants, and other princes of the earth? Have we them not by the industry of worms, and small vermin? In very truth, we may very well say, that worms cloth worms, and that the most stately amongst men do take from the most vile amongst creatures the substance of their bravery and pomp. For what are men, but poor worms of the earth, who to make themselves a little excel the rest, do take from other worms the ornaments of their magnificence? And if we consider what commodity the milk which is drawn from some beasts doth deliver unto a thousand thousand persons, if we consider of the great multitude that there is of all kinds of four-footed beasts, of birds and of fishes; all which do serve us for food and nourishment in divers manners: if how many sundry tastes and savours we find in all these meats of different natures, according to the tastes, complexions and dispositions of men, and which are so tempered, that they be good for those that are in health, for those that are sick, for great, for small, for young, for old: shall we not be ravished with all these wonders, thereby to give glory to the sovereign Creator and moderator of all nature? What shall we more say in that the skins of earthly beasts, are of so many divers colours, and so well compact, either of wool, or of hair, or of good skins, of the variety and diversity that there is in the feathers of birds, and in the colours of them, and in their songs, which minister much pleasure to melancholy persons: are not these so many excellent testimonies of the power of the Omnipotent, who created all these things through his bounty and benignity towards us? Surely there is nothing so vile & contemptible in the least creature that is, but doth preach the Majesty of God unto us. And therefore he said unto his servant job, 
job. 39  [Hast thou given the pleasant wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers unto the Ostrich?] For we see, that they which will deck themselves, do put upon their heads the fair plumes of the Ostrich, & of other fowls, which are sold very dear: also every one admireth the tail of the peacock, wherewith he sets forth himself, which he turneth like as into a wheel or a roundel, being so gallantly garnished, that there seem to be as many eyes or suns, as there be feathers therein.  
I speak not here of the nature of beasts, nor of the industry which God hath given to every one of them, to know what is convenient or hurtful for them, and to covet the one, and avoid the other: as also how they are furnished with care and power, to preserve their life, and the lives of their young ones. I pass over in silence the power and divers properties which consist in each of them: for the discourse thereof would be infinite: and we have likewise already said somewhat concerning that, which is most note-worthy in many rare and excellent beasts. But I will here bring into the number one of the least and most common sort, which we behold every day in our houses: for perhaps the consideration thereof will not be altogether unprofitable unto us; 
Many things to be considered of in the nature of the Cock.  and that is the cock. If any question be made concerning his beauty, in what bird may we find more, be it, that we consider of his plumage, and the diversity of colours, which is commonly therein, or of his fair kingly crest, or his stately pace and brave carriage, which cannot be more magnificent in the greatest monarch of the world? And if this bird were not so common, but were very seldom seen, there are but few other creatures which would be preferred before him, although there were nothing worthy of consideration in his nature, save that which we have already declared. What shall we say then, if we will but meditate, of what heart and courage he is in fight? Is there any other creature which can less endure to be overcome, and is more ashamed thereof? Again, what courtesy useth he amongst the hens, with whom he is conversant? and how much doth he love them, even to provide for meat to feed them, and to take it out of his own beak, to give unto them, calling them when he hath found it, as the hen calleth her little chickens together? But that which I find most strange in him, is the agreement which by nature he hath with the Sun, which is such, as one may very well think, that he hath some natural Astronomy and Astrology, which is bred in him. For he understandeth and perceiveth the course and motion of the heaven and of the Sun, and when his rising doth approach, so that he declareth it by his crowing, very timely in the morning, and that divers times before any other creature can perceive it; yea or men themselves, except they rise out of their beds to behold the sky. And yet for all that they must have obtained some knowledge of the course and of the motion of heaven; either by the science of Astronomy, or through long use and continual observations thereof, as is with shepherds, and those that watch in the fields. But if the heavens be covered with clouds, what can the most expert of them know therein, save by means of clocks, which they have in their houses? The cock than is more skilful in this art. For without ever moving from the place where he is at roost to sleep, and what weather soever there be, fair or fowl; yet doth not he fail to sound out the chimes at his hours, so, as there is no clock so certain: and he serveth also for one to them that have no other. And therefore we may very well say, that how many cocks there are in the world, so many natural and domestical clocks are they for those who have them in their houses. And do we not see how that soldiers, especially Almains do commonly carry these creatures with them, to serve as a trumpet to them to sound out the approach of day. 
Matth. 26. Mark. 14. Luke. 22. john. 13. Goodly doctrine that we ought to learn by the crowing of the Cock.  But the cock did not serve for a clock only to S. Peter, but for a preacher also, to recall into his memory the words, which he had heard of his master, and for to draw him out of his sin, and to induce him to true repentance as he did. And the like aught we to do, so often as this bird croweth in the morning, not only to think ourselves advertised of the approach of the Sun, which bringeth us the temporal day, after the darkness of the night, but we must every day wake out of the sleep of sin, wherein we are so sound laid; and prepare and dispose ourselves to receive jesus Christ, the true Sun of justice, which bringeth us the eternal and perpetual day, that is never changed into night; & the light which cannot be obscured by darkness. By this brief discourse than we may judge how many excellent matters we should find to entreat upon concerning the nature of living things, to make us still more and more acknowledge the wonders of the providence of God, if we would pursue to the full, that which might be said concerning this matter in searching out the secrets of the divers faculties of creatures. But we will content ourselves only to add to this, which we have said, that which well deserveth to be considered of in this place, concerning the multiplication of such beasts as are most profitable for men, and by whom they receive most commodities, whereupon (ACHITOB) let us hear you presently discourse.   

Of the blessing and providence of God, in the multiplication and conservation of those beasts, that are most profitable to men, and by whom they receive most commodities. Chapter 92.  ACHITOB. 
THE holy Scripture teacheth us, how that God after he had created the beasts, he blessed them, saying, [Increase and multiply, 
Genes. 1.  and fill the waters, and the earth.] And that afterwards when the deluge had overwhelmed every living soul, save Noah and his family, and two of every kind of beasts; God likewise repeated the same benediction of them, 
c. 9  saying, [Bring forth fruit, and multiply, and fill the earth.] Through which word that admirable fruitfulness, which we behold in all creatures, did first come, and is for ever conserved. Wherein, if we have any worthy matter delivered unto us to acknowledge the providence, bounty and benignity of God towards men, it is principally in this point which is notorious unto all, that the virtue of this blessing hath been such, that those beasts, from whom we might receive most commodity, and which are most tame and familiar, have much more multiplied, than the other wild and cruel beasts, who might bring any peril or endomagement unto us. Whereto God himself had in some sort, a regard when he commanded Noah to enter into the ark, 
c. 7.  & to take of clean beasts, seven and seven, male and female: but of unclean beasts, two and two only. So that by this mean, there did most remain of the number of those, the use of whom was most necessary for man: giving us also a certain testimony of his fatherly bounty towards us, by which he is induced to have respect unto us in all things.  
But if we consider what fecundity there is in certain savage beasts, and yet how it vanisheth, and is surmounted by the multiplication of the other sort (wherewith we serve ourselves) by a certain kind of manner, which is altogether incomprehensible unto us: there is no person, but will find himself ravished in the contemplation thereof. For let us take for instance the wolves only. It is certain, that they are more fertile than sheep, kine, & other private & domestical beasts, which serve for the maintenance of our life, & to other uses for the commodity of the same. For the sheep doth bring forth, 
Goodly contemplations upon the fertility of beasts.  & nourish but one lamb, the cow one calf, the mare one foal, and so of the rest: whereas the wolf bringeth forth and nourisheth many whelps. Moreover none of those tame beasts, no nor man himself doth eat any wolves: but they, & many other wild beasts, which live upon pray, yea man himself, do eat up lambs, sheep, kine, and their calves, and many times foals escape not: and yet we nevertheless do daily behold, how all these poor beasts which are a continual pray to men and other creatures, do increase and multiply each one more in his kind, than wolves and other cruel beasts, who eat and devour them. Are not these then admirable effects of the providence of God, the reason whereof doth surpass the capacity of our understanding? In very truth these things are no less wonderful (although there be great diversity of the subject) than the multiplication of the people of Israel amongst the Egyptians, which was by so much the greater, by how much the more they were oppressed by tyranny and cruel dealing.  
Let us also note, 
Other considerations to the same purpose.  how that this eternal wisdom favouring the fertility of those beasts, that are most profitable for man, hath assigned to such as live upon pray and rapine, an habitation in desert and obscure places, in rocks, caves, and in dens. For so it pleased God to separate them from the other, to the end that they might the less annoy them. Moreover he sundered them amongst themselves: in such sort that they do not live together in companies, as others do, that they might not overrun them. For wolves, bears, lions, and such like do not communicate one with the other, as private and domestical beasts do: because they cannot agree one with another, as the peaceable and innocent beasts. So likewise eagles, hawks, falcons, and other birds of pray, do not fly together in volees and troops, as pigeons, crane's, geese, & such like do, which serve us for food. Thereupon then ensueth, that wild beasts cannot gather so much power, as to hurt the other, upon whom they make continual war: and who by this mean are oftentimes saved from peril. Let us add in regard of birds, that they of pray are not so fruitful as those which are given unto us for food: Witness the great number of chickens which the hen doth hatch at one time, and the number of the young ones of partridges & quails, in comparison of those who fly to devour them. And although doves do bring forth but one at a time, yet they recompense that, insomuch as they breed almost every month in the year. In meditation then upon these things, we must consider what, and how great the bounty of God is towards us: and that all his creatures must be as so many preachers still to anounce unto us the puissance and infinite wisdom of him; and as mirrors wherein he presenteth himself every where before our eyes. And when we serve him not according to our duty, we are well worthy to be set to school to such masters, as being beasts, more brute, more wild, more savage, than they who live with us, and are created for to serve us. It is then as Isay said to the Israelites who were ingrateful and rebellious against their God: [The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib: but Israel hath not known, my people hath not understood.] And indeed in these two kinds of creatures we have a goodly example to raise us out of our sloth and ingratitude towards God: if we do but consider only, what benefits do redound unto us by the service which we have of oxen in tilling of our lands, and drawing of carts and wagons: and by asses in bearing all loads and burdens which are laid upon their backs. Wherein we are also to esteem of the providence of God, in regard of the form of the bodies, and members of these beasts. For he hath so disposed them, that their only figure and composition doth admonish men of the works wherein these creatures must be employed, & of the uses, whereto they must be put. For oxen do clearly show us, that their back is not fit to bear packs nor saddle, but that their neck is fit for the yoke, and their shoulders to draw carts and wagons: whereby one may easily judge as also by their heaviness, that they are unfit to bear burdens like the ass, whose back, head and shoulders, are apt for the same.  

Of the docility of Bulls.  Moreover shall we not consider of the great bounty, and providence of God, in that he hath created the puissant & strong bulls so docible, that men do easily teach them to leave all their fierceness, and make them so tame, that a little young boy shall lead them like sheep, and put the yoke upon their neck, couple them, and make them labour as he listeth? This may make us wonder at the indocilitie and wildness of man, being so difficult to correct and tame. For we see that one only child can easily direct a great troop of beasts, be they oxen or bulls, and govern them himself: But contrariwise, the nature of man is so untoward, that many masters and governors are scarce sufficient to guide one only child. And what may we more say, in that all the government of these beasts is done without any need to muzzle their mouths, or to tie and fasten them in chains or halters, and without keeping them in bits and bridles like horses, which men tame by such means? Surely we need not doubt, but if God had not ordained by his providence, that oxen and bulls should serve men in those uses whereto they would employ them, that we should be able to draw no more service out of them, than out of the wildest beasts that are in the world. By so many testimonies then, as we have in the nature of beasts, of the puissance, bounty and benignity of the creator of all things: let us conclude, that we may very well say to all such as do not consider upon the so admirable works of God, and upon his providence therein, that which job said to his friends, speaking thus, [Ask the beasts, and they shall teach thee, 
job. 12.  and the fowls of the heaven, and they shall tell thee: or speak to the earth, and it shall show thee; or to the fishes of the sea, and they shall declare unto thee, who is ignorant of all these, but that the hand of the Lord hath made all these?] And to morrow (companions) we will take a view of the goodly riches and treasures, which are hidden within the earth: to wit, of metals and precious stones, the discourse whereof (ASER) you shall begin.  
The end of the eleventh days work.    

THE TWELFTH DAYS WORK.  

Of metals and especially of Gold. Chapter 93.  ASER. 
AS we have already contemplated those things, which appear to be most rare upon the earth; so do we now desire somewhat to refresh our spirits by the consideration of those things which are hidden within the entrails thereof. That then shall be the subject of our discourse for this day, to the end that as the contemplation of the highest heavens did open an entrance into our discourse, so we should conclude it, by a treatise upon that, which is within the earth, nearest to the centre of this great universe: to wit, upon metals and stones. Not that we intent to speak of them, as by a particular description of their nature and species: for than I dare affirm that there are so many kinds of metals engendered within the earth, that they cannot be particularly described: and sith that nature adorneth the earth with above five hundred kinds of plants, and with as many beasts, it is very likely, that she exerciseth no fewer means under earth, whereby to enrich it. But as we have proposed unto ourselves no other end in all our discourses of heaven, of earth, and of the creatures therein contained; but only to consider upon the most worthy things therein, which might incite us to an holy meditation of the providence of God, thereby the more to glorify him: even so will we do in that which we now intent to declare, concerning metals and precious stones.  

What metal is, and of the kinds thereof.  metal is that which is pliable by the hammer, and hard: stones are hard, but not pliable; and wax and mud are pliable, but not hard. Metals are seven in number, as the planets are. For gold representeth the Sun; silver, the Moon: amber called electrum, Mercury: iron, Mars: lead, Saturn: brass, Venus: and copper, jupiter: or else we distinguish them in this sort. All metal is perfect, soft, and pure as gold: or, it is pure and hard, as silver: or, it is hard and impure, as iron: or, it is soft and impure, as lead. And for amber it is compounded of gold, and silver; as cyprus copper is made of brass, and iron: containing an equal substance of brass, and of iron: which causeth that iron too much concocted and high tincted  easily changed into brass, and rechanged again into copper. But we will now speak of gold, which is the most perfect and purest of all metals. In very truth nature never took delight to make a more perfect elementary substance than gold is: for it is as pure, and neat in the quality thereof, as are the simple elements whereof it is composed. And therefore by good right do we hold it in price of excellency far above all other riches, and do esteem it in our judgement to be much more precious than all other metals. For being in the composition thereof proportioned in equal quality, fitly correspondent in the symmetry of the elements which compound it, it is even from the original thereof so purified already, as are the simple elements: In such sort, that by their conjunction together in equal power, there is engendered so delicate, and perfect a mixture of indissoluble union, composing an accord so faithfully, that there is made thereby an incorruptible paste, which is permanent to all eternity in the excellency and goodness thereof. Wherefore gold cannot be vanquished by injury of time, and of antiquity, neither can contain in itself nor support any excrescence and superfluity of rust. For though it be put into the water, or fire, and there remain for any long space of time, yet is it never stained, neither doth accept any other quality, but that which is natural, nor yet doth fail any whit: which is the particular privilege that it hath above other metals. For they are all subject to alteration, and therefore change, and corrupt for a small matter, and accept a good or bad quality in their original, or end. But gold is incorruptible, and therefore not subject to such mutations: yea though it be drawn out in so small wire, that it be as fine as threads in a spider's web, and though it be buried in most piercing medicaments, as are sublimatum, and verdigris, salt, and vinegar, & that it remain two thousand years therein, it will not for all that be corrupted, but contrariwise the more refined; but all gold hath not one self same perfection: for their mines and sources are different in goodness. Sometimes also gold is counterfeit, sophisticate, and falsified through the infidelity or avarice of those, who mingle it, and multiply it with other mixtures of metals of less value, and less pure than it is. But pure and refined gold is always perfect by nature in all those qualities, which we have already touched. 
How gold is found.  And it is found in divers manners; to wit, mixed with sand, as in Bohemia: on the shore-side amongst the waters near to Goldebourgh, and Risegronde: and amongst the stones in mountains as in calicut, and in the Indies. But the first generation thereof is at the top of mountains, in the highest places, because that the sun doth there more easily purify that, which retaineth too much earthines in it. And when the rain, and torrents do flow down the mountains, they carry the gold down with them to the foot thereof, where it is gathered amongst the sand: or else in waters near thereunto whither it is driven by violence of the floods: except perhaps the ground open with those rains, and the gold do there stick, as it oftentimes chanceth. And that, which is always found in the entrance of the mine, is not the finest: but the farther you go, the finer and purer it is, of better weight, and greater value. That than which is found in waters and rivers, is fished for and is in form of little grains: and in rocks and mountains it is taken out, by delving and digging. 
Three sorts of gold-mines.  And therefore there are holden to be three sorts of gold mines. For some are called pendent, some jacent, and others obliqne and running. The pendent are those which are found in the superficies of mountains, and have the earth under them. They which are jacent or lie, are below in the field and plain ground, carried thither by torrents and storms of rain. And the other that are obliqne, have a cross course whether it be in that which hangeth, or lieth, all whereof is driven by floods into the next rivers: for which cause there are rivers throughout all the world, the sand whereof seemeth to be of azure and gold, having indeed pure and fine grains of good gold. 
How gold is taken out of mines.  Now according as the mines are, so are there divers means used to take out the metal. For in those places which are dry, without water, they which are expert in the vein of mines, having true knowledge what may be in that place, do cause it to be digged eight or ten foot deep, and as many foot long and broad: and as they proceed in their work, they still wash the earth that is digged up, continuing so till such time as they find the gold, which is sometimes so deep, that they are driven to set up arches of wood over them, that the earth may not overwhelm them. And when the mines are pendent along the mountains, the difficulty is then more great, wherefore they also set up engines to defend them from dangers, which are there very imminent. For some, to wit, those that dig into the rock, are quite hidden therein, even as those that cut stone, are within a quarry; others creep scrambling up the sharp rocks, with a basket at their backs, seeking out the earth of the mine to carry it to the water: others wash the same earth in a sieve, by means whereof the gold is separated, remaining in the sieve, after that the earth is run out by little and little. Moreover, out of these mines there issueth a stinking breath or damp, which doth oftentimes choke and kill them that work therein, being not able to endure so bad an air: some also are drowned by waters, which suddenly gush out of those places where they have digged, when they think not of any such thing, quickly overwhelming them, before they can make sign to those that are above to help them. Again, these miserable poor souls are oftentimes affrighted by evil spirits, who inhabit in great numbers in those hollow and solitary places, as many have experimented to their great hurt. For sometimes it happeneth, that these devils tumble great stones and whole rocks upon them, throw down their engines, overturn their ladders, break their cordage, and do a thousand other mischiefs, whereby men are oftentimes slain. Concerning rivers wherein the grains and sands of gold are found, the dangers are not so great therein, but the pain is no less. For if the river be little, the Indians use to empty and let it out till it be dry: and then take off the bottom thereof, and wash it, as beforesaid: and if the water be very great, they turn it out of the channel; which done, they go to gather the gold in the midst of the river, betwixt the stones and great pebbles, so that sometimes there cometh greater profit by this fishing, then by washing the digged earth, to separate the gold. But howsoever, yet is there great pains always used to obtain the riches of this metal, so much coveted by men, and whereof the abuse is very great, as we may in some sort touch, after that we have spoken of other metals, which shall serve (AMANA) for the subject of your discourse.   

Of Silver, Amber, Iron, Led, Brass and Copper. Chap. 94.  AMANA. 
THE most noble amongst metals next to gold is silver, for although that copper in colour, and lead in weight do nearest approach unto gold: yet in tenuity of substance, in pureness and fastness, 
Of silver.  silver is so like unto it, that good silver may be rightly said to be imperfect gold in substance, failing in colour, and that by succession of time it is sometimes changed into gold; as in many years space lead turneth into silver. The mines thereof are more ordinary than gold mines; for France, Italy, Spain, England, Germany, and many other regions of Europe do bear silver in divers places, as well as the other parts of the world. And it is there engendered in four manners: to wit, either in the earth, which being gathered together, and then melted in the fire, doth yield silver; or in lead, wherewith it is often found mingled; or in brass, or in stones, out of which it is also extracted by fire. For in the mountain called (Mons regius) stones retain very much silver: which being also put into the fire, there is found in every pound of silver that runneth out of them, half an ounce of gold at least. Silver is also many times found to be mixed with copper, as in Alsaria near to the Rhine, in the mountains of Saint Anne, and in Meisen: for there are stones full of copper, in which is great abundance of silver. And when it is separated from lead, it leaveth a scum, 
Of lethargy.  which we call (Lithargyrium) which is a kind of impure lead, 
Of quicksilver.  retaining some virtue of silver. For quicksilver, though it agree in name with silver, yet it approacheth nearer to gold: for it is like unto it in tenuity, and weight, and to silver in colour only. But for all this it is no metal, but a water condensate, not by heat (for it is not hardened) nor by cold (for then it would be a stone or metal) but by some other terrestrial, rare and pure portion, whereby it cometh to be very weighty and cold, splendent and liquid: and is therefore ranked among those mettalline substances, which differ but little from water: and indeed the mountains where quicksilver groweth are very green, and full of fountains.  

Of amber.  Let us speak now of Amber, which we have put into the number of metals. Many authors do disagree very much in the discourse of Amber. For some reckon that which is called (Electrum) amongst pliable and hard mettalline substances: others will not acknowledge it to be any other than a gum of a tree, which is very much like to that of the Pine and Fir-tree, producing Rosin, and is very common in Arabia the happy. Philemon writeth, that in two places of Scythia, Amber is digged out of the ground, like a kind of stone; and in one place it is white, in another yellow. But omitting this argument, we will follow those who make Amber a metal, whose nature and property is in mean betwixt gold and silver: and that such is the true and natural amber; as that, which we use in our beads is artificial. And it partaketh more of gold then of silver, because it is more pure and perfect, and apt to be wrought. For if it did consist more of silver, it could not endure the forge and hammer. There are vessels made thereof for beauty and profit: for good amber doth discover poisons in these two manners, by cracking and making the sign of an arch within. For when the rare humidity thereof cometh to be consumed by the force of venom, it cracketh: and the colour changing, it seemeth that in steed of the great splendour thereof, there doth a kind of stain represent itself like unto an arch. Now that this kind of amber is very rare, it is not because there is not enough to be had in mines: but avarice and ignorance of the virtue thereof causeth that the gold is extracted, whereby it ceaseth to be amber.  
Concerning Iron; it is taken out of the earth, 
Of iron.  and to make it malleable, the mass thereof is (when it is taken up) laid to dry in the sun, and that which is earthy doth soften in the rain, as that which is moist doth melt by the sun, and the most sharp part thereof, which is as the venom of it, is consumed by the fire. The mines of this metal are common in Europe, as in divers parts of France, which are enriched by the forges that are there set up, to bring this mineral substance to his perfection. Which by how much the more it is concocted and purged, by so much the more is it better in goodness: in such sort, as that which is earthy, doth at last turn to scales and dross, and the most subtle part thereof doth convert into steel, after it hath been well purged, and a little marble added thereto. And this is artificial steel. 
Of steel.  For there is in many places natural steel, namely in Persia very good, in the Chaldean Isle, and near Damascus, whereof the best cemiters in the world are made, which cut so well, that there is no razor be it never so well steeled and tempered that hath a more fine and sharper edge. For this cause some say that there are some kinds of steel and iron so excellent, that weight for weight they are esteemed of greater price than gold. Moreover men may see what art can do in iron, when by much beating thereof, and through the power of water, iron, be it never so thin, is made unfrangible by blows: because that such water, by means of fire doth consume the terrestrial and watery excrement, which is found in this metal. When then the iron is brought to be most pure, most hard, and most light, then is it most subtle, and therefore most strong, and resisteth best.  
Lead consisteth of four kinds. For there is black, common, 
Of lead.  & low-pricked lead: white, which is ordinarily called tin: Bisemutum which is of mean quality betwixt black and white, and is rare, and known but to few people though it be found in the mountains of Bohemia: and the fourth kind is compounded of Stibium. The ore of lead is melted in furnaces prepared for that purpose, and being melted, it is let run through pipes out of the furnace, whither the workmen will. And whilst it remaineth very hot, they cast clear water upon it to make the four arise: which waxeth very massive, hard to break, yellow, and bright as glass: and this is that which is called lethargy of lead. But this difference is betwixt white lead, and true tin; 
Of tin.  that this doth always grow with silver, & the other doth grow of itself: in such sort that tin is almost white lead blanched by silver. Brass (as we have already said) is made of a matter very near approaching to that of iron: 
Of brass, and copper.  and so also is copper. But brass hath this property, that it never rusteth; as iron and steel doth: and therefore it will continue longer. In times passed also, it was very usual to make armour and bucklers thereof, yea, and lances likewise: witness Homer, who recounteth that Menelaus pursued Paris with a brazen lance. Flutes and pipes of organs, and other musical instruments are commonly made of brass: but it doth properly agree with trumpets, because it maketh a great noise in dorick music, and inflameth men to combat. That of cyprus is harder, and better than any other. Some also because of copper make two kinds of brass: to wit, natural, whereof the best hath spots of shining gold intermingled; and there is reported to have been found in new Spain in America a piece of it of two hundred pound weight. Then is there artificial brass, which is called copper, or latten: and the most excellent is that, which in four pounds of brass doth contain one pound of white lead called tin: also when the white lead is mixed to the eight part of brass, then is the copper very good: but it is base being mixed with black lead. For the use of copper, it is chief fit for fair instruments, as ordinance, cauldrons, and such like: wherein it is more excellent than brass; because also it doth not give a bad taste, nor smell to such meat as is boiled therein. Thus have we summarily run over that, which we thought most convenient to be spoken concerning metals: we will now speak of precious stones: whereof (ARAM) do you begin to entreat.   

Of precious stones, and chiefly of the Diamond. Chap. 95.  ARAM. 
IF we first say somewhat concerning the original and matter of stones, the nature and virtue of them shall be so much the more easy for us to comprehend. Now the original of stones, as of metals, is in the earth: and they be all made of an elementary substance, or of a pure and equal matter which is gathered together, or else is run on an heap, or else hath been purified in some sort howsoever. In which, 
Of the original, and substance of stones.  heat doth chief operate. For that is it which boileth the matter naturally engendered to perfect the humour, whereof afterwards the mineral matter or stone doth consist. Theophrastus' distinguishing all that which doth so grow within the earth, saith, that some things participate with the water, as gold, and silver, and other metals: some accord with the earth, as stones, yea precious stones, and all such earths as are in estimation because of their colours, or of their savours, or of some other properties. But if he would infer (as it seemeth) that all precious stones are terrestrial, if this opinion were true, then should there be no precious stone bright & clear, & yet almost all of them are so. Wherefore we may rather say, that they are not earthy, but watery: that is to say, that they are composed of a certain humour, which retaineth more of water then of earth: for it is a certain kind of clammy slime, wherein there is more water than earth, which being dried and thickened through contiunance of the same operation, and by the vehemency thereof, doth at last become a stone. Now that a gross and clammy humour doth easily convert into stone, we see evident in all living creatures, and chief in ourselves. For those stones and gravel, which breed in the bladder and in the reins, are engendered of such humours, as in tract of time have been boiled and hardened by the natural heat of our body. So then precious stones, which are bright and transparent, are not composed of earth, nor yet of water only: but are engendered of a pure and liquid humour, which retaineth in itself more of water then of earth. For in that these stones, being cast into water, sink to the bottom, it is manifest, that they are not made of water only, for than they should swim aloft like ye and hail.  
For the splendour and light of some, and obscurity, 
Of the splendour and light in stones.  or thickness of others: we must first note, that the elements operating (as in all things else) in the generation of stones, they participate more with the water and with the earth, then with the fire and with the air. And because that the earth is not transparent nor shining, as it is evident that the water is, & clear also; it followeth, that all the brightness & splendour of stones, doth proceed from the water. Therefore we say, that all clear & transparent stones are engendered of humours alike in clearness & light: and contrariwise, that they which are troubled, obscure & thick, do proceed from the earth: to wit, from a slimy & black humour that retaineth much earth, and but little water. And for so much as some stones are more clear, and more shining than others, that proceedeth from the diversity of humours, whereof they have been engendered: for some humours are more clear and more purified than others. Whereupon ensueth that some precious stones which are white, have been generated by an humour having the colour of water, which maketh them more clear and more transparent than others: and so of the variety which is in the colours of all stones, be they green, blue, red, purple, yellow, or of many mingled colours, one must judge the humours whereof they did proceed at first to have been such: and that other precious stones which are not transparent proceed from troubled, black and obscure humours; for the water itself though it be never so clear, doth become black, if it be mixed with never so little blackness. And such precious stones as are splendent, do shine by reason of their great brightness, which maketh their light continue and abound. As much must we judge of the cause of stains, spots, shadowings, clouds, veins and other vices, which are found in precious stones: and of the difference that is in their massivenes, spungines, lightness, weight and hardness: for all these things proceed from the diversity of the nature and of the colours of such humours as have engendered them.  

Of the principal stones, and of their proper praises.  Now amongst precious stones, these bear away the prize, and are praised with especial praise: the white diamond, for hardness, and solidity: the green emerald for beauty: the red carbuncle, called the ruby, for lively colour: the sky coloured saphir, for grace: the yellow chrysolite for splendour: the divers coloured opal, for variety: and the clear pearl for whiteness, and roundness. First then let us speak of the diamond. 
Of the diamond.  For as gold amongst metals, so the diamond amongst stones is most precious. For the substance thereof is hard, and for that cause the more exquisite: as that is amongst metals, which is the most pliable. By reason then of the hardness and solidity thereof, the diamond beareth away the price amongst precious stones: for in colour it is inferior to the emerald, to the ruby, and to the opal. But that which maketh it most to be esteemed, is, because that the filings, and small pieces thereof are precious: so that one scruple is sold for six crowns of gold: and because that by the hardness thereof, it cutteth all other stones, being not only commodious in sculpture but also very necessary. Neither will it be well cut or polished, but by the only filings thereof, so hard it is. For which cause many have written, that the point of a dart, being rubbed with the powder of a diamond, it will easily pierce any armour: wherein this reason is apparent, that the iron or steel is heated by the blow, whereupon it may be penetrated by the subtility and hardness of the diamond. Which is also commended for this virtue, that being polished, it doth greatly glister amongst precious stones: & for that it resisteth fire for the space of nine days time, without having any sense thereof, and afterwards it remaineth many other days, without being annoyed. Which sufficiently declareth that this stone doth consist of most subtle parts: for otherwise it would have pores & small holes, by which the fire entering, it should easily break. The diamond than retaineth a lively and strong splendour, in such sort that it doth not only shine, but doth also sparkle, and is beside that, unchangeable, not being corrupted by iron, by moisture, by fire, by age, nor by use. It hath also this property, that being tied to the flesh of the left arm, it doth hinder & withstand the fears of night. It is not then without good cause that this stone is so much esteemed by us, and almost by all nations. For even in the Indies, in Calicut, in Persia, in Tartary, and other places, where rocks of Diamonds are commonly found, they are very dear and of great traffic: so that they are transported into all places, how far remote soever they be: witness the isle of Carge, which lieth in the bosom of the Persian-sea, where bargains are usually made for Diamond stone: it remaining yet uncut from the rock, although it be scarce within six hundred and threescore miles of that place where it is had. And therefore it is no great marvel, if diamonds be at so high a price as they are, considering that they are so much in request by every one: wherefore there are some found which are sold for twenty and thirty thousand crowns a piece and above; for we ourselves know, that there is one in the treasury of our kings which did cost seventy thousand crowns. We are to note, that in the mountain of Cugarquel, which is near to the river of Goa in the East Indies, are the best and finest diamonds of all the world: as to the contrary in the isle of Canada, which neighboureth upon Florida, there are found false ones, but so fair and well cut by nature, that the most subtle Lapidaries are very much troubled to discern the one from the other: whereupon this Proverb did arise. Lo, there's a Canada-diamond. But I have said enough hereof. Now (ACHITOB) do you speak of the nature and property of other precious stones.   

Of the Emeraud, of the Carbuncle or Ruby, of the Saphir, of the jacinth, and of the Amethyst. Chapter 96.  ACHITOB. 
THE Emeraud hath been long time holden for the most precious stone of all other, as well because of the beauty thereof, as by reason of the many great properties which are natural thereunto: in such sort as the price thereof did exceed that of the diamond. But as the rareness of some things make them dear, so doth the abundance of other things make them to be less esteemed: as it came to pass, 
Of the emeraud.  that the great quantity of Emerauds, which not long since were found in the newfound countries of America, hath much abated their price, but not their beauty nor virtue, which ever remaineth, and is most excellent in those which are brought out of the East-Indies: for they of Peru are of much less worth. The green Emeraud then is the fairest of all precious stones, but yet the most brittle. For it sometimes happeneth to break even in the act of coiture. Being drunk, it doth much resist poisons, by the nature of the softness thereof: by reason that the abundance of the well concocted humour which is therein, doth refresh the spirit by the perspicuity thereof: and so it is profitable to the nature of man, and resisteth the force of venom: and for so much as it is a stone it retaineth the virtue thereof stable. For we may note, that all things which are pleasant to the sight, are profitable for man; whether it be in precious stones, or gold, or silver, silk or purple: but above all, the Emeraud is fair, if that the art therein deceive not the sight, for as well this stone, as others are oftentimes counterfeited and falsified in divers ma●●ers. Moreover, as the Emeraud is very soft, so is it very subject to all casual chances: for it is corrupted by fire and heat, and by the touch of other precious stones which are harder, chief of the Diamond, yea by every thing that can give a blow. That which shineth most, and almost like the sun, and which refresheth the sight, as forests and green meadows do, is most to be esteemed. But I believe there was never any mention made of a more rich basin then that of an Emeraud, being one of the greatest treasures of Italy, which is in the city of Genoa: for it is reported that it was pawned in the necessity of the commonweal for fourteen hundred thousand ducats: think then but how much this Emeraud must be worth. But that which is also said, that this is the same platter, wherein our Saviour jesus Christ did eat the Paschal Lamb in his last supper, maketh me to doubt much, whether there be any people that upon one only stone would lend so great a sum of money.  
The red Carbuncle called the ruby is another precious stone, 
Of the carbuncle called the ruby.  which is very beautiful, and hath the property to quicken the spirit, and make it joyful. Some authors have made mention of three kinds of carbuncles, saying that there be some, which shine in the dark: others also that shine, if water be powered thereupon: and the third kind is of those, whose clearness is only seen in another light, to wit by day time, or by candle light. Theophrastus saith, that there are some of the colour of water, some of the colour of the Amethyst, others of the colour of the jacinth, and some of a red colour, which are called Rubies. In the Indies these stones are plentifully found: and Lewes de Barthema reporteth, that the king of Pegum, which is a city in India, hath carbuncles called in Greek Pyropi, of such magnitude and splendour, that if any one should see the king in a dark place, with these stones upon him, he would seem to shine like a clear light, even as if he were fired by the beams of the sun.  
The saphir doth approach near to the excellency of the diamond, in great hardness: in fairness of colour, 
Of the saphir.  being of a sky colour; and in beauty: and is very good for the sight if it be not sophisticated. It refresheth a man, and being drunk is profitable for melancholy people, and for blows & bitings of scorpions and serpents. Albertus Magnus affirmeth that he had twice found by experience, that the saphir would heal an anthrax, which is a kind of bile. Which may be believed considering the medicinable virtue which is in this stone. For as thirst cometh through the biting of a certain snake called Dipsas, and as the hand is benumbed by the touching of a little fish, called Remora, so the venomous fire of the Anthrax may be extinguished by the long touching of the saphir: but it must needs be so big as it may cover the head of the bile.  
Having already made mention of the jacinth, and of the amethyst, to which there are great properties assigned, I will now touch some principal points in them. And first we are to note, that the hyacinth is commonly of a yellow colour, but the best is red: yet it is not so big as the other: being put into the fire it becometh more obscure, and redder: and being out of the fire it shineth greatly. Also this kind of hyacinth doth differ but little from the carbuncle in estimation of price. They that are of the colour of water are counted for base, and of no force. But Serapio hath written, that the good hyacinth keepeth men that beareth it out of the peril of thunder: and defendeth them from the plague, and provoketh sleep. Albertus Magnus likewise saith, that the hyacinth doth augment riches, and authority, and that it doth greatly comfort the heart, and cause much joy. Now because these things might seem to be paradoxes to many, we will here make a little discourse, following the precept of the philosopher, who thinketh it sufficient in hard and intricate questions, if we can well avoid and shun absurd doctrine. For by this means many shall be induced to esteem more than they do of precious stones, and to believe the properties, which are attributed unto them, if not as true, 
Good reasons of the virtue of stones.  at least wise yet as possible. I say then that the hyacinth is of cold temperature: for that is almost common to all precious stones, and causeth them, especially the diamond, not to receive fire very easily: forsomuch as the coldness doth greatly help the solidity and subtlety thereof, which maketh that stones do resist fire. Besides the hyacinth is good for the breath of man, either because of the likeness of substance, or by clearness, or through some other mystical cause, whereby repairing and confirming the breath and the spirit, it maketh man joyful: for sadness is nothing else but the contraction of breath, and shortness and difficulty of the same. By such reason then, as some have said that they have experimented, that if any thing do comfort the heart, it doth likewise resist the plague, which doth chief come through fear and imbecility of heart (as experience showeth us in regard of children, women, and fearful people, who are sooner taken with this disease, then stout and hardy men:) the jacinth abolishing these two things (fear and faintness of heart) it may, I say, help greatly to resist the plague. So also making the heart and the spirit joyful, and by that means more capable of good counsel, it shall be the easier for man to increase in authority, and to augment in richesse. For being defended from thunder, although that the jacinth be (as we have said) of cold temper, which causeth that it will not easily receive endomagement by fire: yet do not we attribute to it therefore, that it will preserve a man from being hurt. But we may rather say, that the spirit of his heart being rejoiced by the virtue of this stone, may have the grace to direct him into some place where he may be clean out of the peril of thunder. Concerning the Amethyst, 
Of the amethyst.  it is also a precious stone and oriental, although it be but of a low price in regard of others: in it is seen the colour and grace of wine, bearing a purple lustre: and it is thought to hinder drunkenness if it be tied to the navel; and to stir up dreams. Now (ASER) let us hear you pursue our discourse of stones.   

Of the Chrysolite, Topaz, Opal, Turkess, and of the Agath. Chap. 97.  ASER. 
Whosoever will nearly consider upon that, which hath been written by the Ancients concerning the Chrysolite and Topaz, 
Of the chrysolite.  shall find that that, which we call a Chrysolite, was their Topaz, and contrariwise our Topaz was their Chrysolite. This stone is of yellow colour, not pure, but greenish, and is nothing inferior to the Saphir in hardness, if it be oriental. For you must note, that the German Chrysolite, and many other precious stones, which are found under the North, cold, Septentrional Zone, are not so hard as the oriental; because that there the heat is not so sufficient that it may much attenuate the humour, which composeth the stone, and harden it: for the perfect concretion and gathering together is the cause of hardness, which is done, when some very small parts are mixed and conjoined together, as cometh to pass in the generation of every stone. Moreover the Chrysolite is seldom found, without some black spots wherewith it is foiled: and but for this, it is a very excellent precious stone. It is thought greatly to repress lust, if it be carried next to ones skin. Besides, it is of great coldness, whereby this argument is apparent, that being laid upon the tongue of one that hath a fever, it appeaseth his thirst. Pliny recordeth, 
Hist. nat. lib. 37. c. 8.  that from an Isle called Topazos, there was brought a Chrysolite to Queen Berenice, mother of king Ptolemey the second, which was four cubits long: and that the king of Egypt did afterwards cause a statue to be made thereof in the honour of the Queen Arsinoe his sister and wife, which was placed in the gilded Temple, that this Prince caused to be erected.  

Of the topaz.  The Topaz is of a green colour, and softer than the Chrysolite, for it is easily brought into dust with a file: in lapse of time also it loseth his splendour of itself; so that although it be very fair, 
De subt. lib. 7.  yet none desireth much to wear it. Cardanus affirmeth himself to have found that fifteen grains of this stone being drunk, make a singular remedy for melancholy persons.  

Of the opal.  Now speak we of the Opal, which for variety of colours is accounted amongst the most precious stones. For in it the fire of the Ruby, the purple of the Amethyst, and the green sea of the Emeraud, shine altogether by a marvelous kind of mixture. There are some which have a lustre so mixed with all colours, that there can no more be seen in a rich tablet nor more lively. Others seem to sparkle with violet flames, changing in manner of a fire made of brimstone, or of a fire kindled with oil. Pliny saith, that the Greeks' did call the Opal, Paederos, that is to say, pastime for little children, 
Hist. nat. lib. 17. c. 6. & .9.  because of the great grace and beauty which this stone hath in it. For (saith he) first one would say that there were a green heaven in a pure crystal, mixed with a purple colour, and a golden lustre, inclining to the colour of wine, which is always the last colour that doth present itself. And yet one would say that this stone hath the head crowned with a purple chaplet, and that it is confusedly tincted with all these foresaid colours, and respectively with each of them. Moreover, there is no stone more clear than this: and some say that it is very good for the head, and comfortable to the sight. Nonius a Senator of Rome did so love an Opal that he had, that he chose rather to be banished out of Rome, then to give it to Marcus Antonius, carrying nothing with him of all his wealth but the ring only, wherein that stone was set. Opals are found in many places of Egypt, of Arabia, and of the Indies: but the best are brought from Zeila, and Isle of East India, which produceth them as great as walnuts. But we must note, that the Indians can counterfeit them so finely with simple glass, that it is an hard matter to discern the natural, from false ones: yet their deceit is found in the sun. For holding betwixt the thumb and forefinger a false Opal against the sun, all the diversity of colours which seemed to be in this stone will turn into one: But the natural Opal changeth lustre every minute, and spreadeth it here and there, so that the diversity of the colours thereof will shine upon your fingers, being holden (as is said) and exposed to the Sun.  
Shall we say nothing of the Turkess which is garnished with the colour of heaven, and which hath admirable virtue? 
Of the turkess.  For it is of a sky colour and celestial blue, and very bright. It is esteemed, because that in the night it likewise looketh green: that part which is upon the earth is marked with veins: it is soft, and not of too cold a substance. Also lime slaked & laid upon this stone, seemeth to be blue, and receiveth the colour of a precious stone. It is commonly made bunching, and swelling out like an eye: and is found in this form sowed and set along the rocks in many places of the Indies: but the fairest Turkesses are in the kingdom of Rasigut. And because of the difficulty to come to those places where they grow, the inhabitants of the country beat them down with staves, in such sort that they fall with their earth and moss: and the people do esteem so much of them, that they account them as their greatest riches and delight, hanging them about their necks in manner of Carcanets. It is no marvel then if these stones be rare amongst us: for we see no very common traffic made of them, and yet they are much in request at this day. Their virtue and property according to the report of some, is very marvelous. For they say, that the Turkess being worn in a ring, doth keep a man from hurt that falleth, yea though it be from his horse: and that it receiveth all the blow, and is oftentimes broken in pieces: which is less credible than that which some also affirm, that the virtue thereof doth resist poisons.  
Now let us speak of the Agath, 
Of the agath.  which is the biggest of all such as are called precious stones. But it is of so variable a kind, that one can scarcely think it to be one only stone. For the Agath is white, red, yellow, ashcoloured, green, black, changeable, blue: in brief, the colours of all precious stones, and of all other beside do concur in it. And nature exerciseth so many fashions upon it, that we may see it represent forests, fields, floods, flowers & trees. Histories have celebrated very much the Agath of king Pyrrhus, which represented the nine Muses, with Apollo in the midst of them playing upon his harp, being all in sundry garments: in such sort, as it seemed that nature did contend with the painter to carry away the price of such a representation. Cardanus reporteth that he had in his keeping two Agaths, 
Lib. 7. de. subt.  in one of which, nature had painted the hemisphere of heaven, the distinct circles, with the round earth in the midst, environed by the waters: and in the other, an open gulf of the earth, seemed to breathe out a fume that darkened the air: wherein this was most admirable, that the colour of the smoke should seem to differ from that of the air, which was thereby darkened: this appearing white, and thick, and the air reddish, and somewhat clear. But though the agath be noble and excellent for the variety thereof, yet because it is but little bright, and shining, it is but seldom esteemed to be of great value amongst precious stones. Some do attribute this property thereto, to be good against stingings of scorpions: especially that Agath which is spotted with little grains of gold, which the Isles of Candie, and Sicily do produce. The same virtue is attributed to the agaths of India and to refresh the sight much, by but only looking upon them: and they say, that they staunch thirst being held never so short a while in ones mouth. But enough of this: now (AMANA) do you look to that, which resteth for us to consider upon, concerning these most precious stones that deserve to enrich our discourse.   

Of Pearl, Coral, and Crystal. Chapter 98.  AMANA. 
IT is no marvel though pearls be so much sought after in these days, by every one for ornaments, especially for women: for of old they have been in such or more request: so that while the Roman empire flourished this was a common proverb. That a woman could or might go without pearls, aswell as a consul might go without officers: meaning thereby that pearls were an honour to women, and made way to be given them in the street, as the sergeants did for the consul before whom they marched. 
Of pearl.  Pearl is placed among precious stones, and is of great price, being esteemed for whiteness, splendour, and roundness: and when it is found big, polished, and heavy, then may it be said to be fair in all perfection. But there are very few pearls that have all these beauties, & conditions. Concerning the generation thereof, the ancient opinion hath ever been, that the pearl was engendered in shells of fishes, wherewith the Indian sea doth abound, which engendering at one time of the year, do open and gape in the night time, by that means filling themselves with dew, whereby they conceive pearls, which they make according to the quality of the dew received: if it be clear, they are clear: if troubled so, are they troubled, and fowl: if abundant, the pearls are great: if scarce, they are little. Moreover if it happen to thunder the shells shut together for fear that they have; so that they have no leisure to take in dew enough, whereby they remain lank and empty, as if they had fasted: and thereof also pearls do proceed that are without substance, and full of wind. But mark what our French cosmographer saith: 
Lib. 10. de. cosm. c. 4.  if these shells or oysters have no other substance within them, but this pearl so conceived of dew, how doth the race of this shellfish maintain itself? Moreover in the west Indian seas, where abundance of these pearls are found, it cannot be seen how their generation may be judged by the clear, or obscure disposition of the weather: for if that were so, there is no doubt, but that all the pearls, which were found in one shell, should be all of one manner: whereas the contrary is seen, that within one shell are found some dark pearls, others drawing to a tawny, some pale, some greenish, and some again bluish, and very few there are, which have the perfection required in a fair pearl. Thereupon he concludeth, that this pearled fish maintaineth the kind thereof by the eggs which it breedeth: and that the pearls come out of the sand and gravel wherein they breed and are hidden: because that by little and little this gravel refineth itself, and groweth into these shells, or oysters, till such time as it hath attained to an entire and perfect form, remaining still soft, for so long time as the oyster is within the water, but being out, it presently hardeneth, and becometh such pearl as we see. But without much disputing hereupon, every man is of opinion, that these pearls are bred in the shells of fishes. And the experience hereof is not only seen in the Indian sea, but also in the British seas, yea in all seas, and fresh waters: because that such oysters do swim aswell as fishes: of which there have been some fished up in the river Garonne. But the industry of such as fish, for them in the bottom of the sea is wonderful: for from thence they fetch their best mother of pearl, which lie within, and upon rocks hidden in the waters. They which are appointed to such fishing, enter into boats, and afterwards (leaving some within to govern them, and to help themselves also up, when they have done their fishing) they cast themselves into the water, diving down to the bottom, where they sometimes remain for the space of half an hour, and with nets catch these shells: having taken some, they return again to the top of the water, and are received by those in the vessel, where refreshing themselves with meat, and drink, and having fitted on that, which they put before their face, which is, as of little pieces of sear cloth very fine like a thin bladder, made that they may see clearly through within the water; they leap in five, or six times a day. These oysters are also found fastened upon rocks, which appear above water, from whence they are fetched with pain, and being catched, the pearls are straightways taken out, which otherwise would consume and lose their fresh colour: and in one shell there are sometimes thirty, or forty small and mean ones, but few great ones, to wit, one, or two. They were, doubtless, 
Pearls of great price.  wonderful fair, which were given to Ferdinand Magellano, in a certain Isle of the Moluccaes, which were four in number, each one of the bigness of a pigeon's egg, esteemed to be worth five and twenty thousand crowns a piece. But this was a very small matter in comparison to the two Unions of Cleopatra Queen of Egypt, esteemed worth fifteen hundred thousand crowns: one whereof she dissolved in very strong vinegar, and drank it up at a banquet, because it might be said, that she had surpassed in sumptuousness of cost, the feast which Anthony had made her. Now for the virtues of pearls, they are very good for passions, and faintness of heart, and purge the blood, and being put into medicines, they take away clouds, and dimness from before the eyes, and dry up the moisture that runs from them.  

Of coral.  Coral is likewise fished for in the sea, and put into the number of stones, although indeed it is a plant, or shrub, which being drawn out of the Mediterranean sea, and feeling the air, doth wax hard by the power thereof. And there is found, white, red and black, in one self same plant, which groweth amongst stones and rocks in the bottom of the water: but the best coral is the red if it be evenly congealed: for the white is not so massive nor heavy: but is light, rare, and full of holes like a sponge. When it is fished for, it is all covered with moss, and hath no sign or apparition of redness. But being cleansed, it taketh colour, and appeareth fairly polished: now those grains of round coral, which are put in bracelets and collars, are not found so in the shrub: but it consisteth of many little branches, whereof these grains are made with a wheel, and files, and are afterwards polished with vermilion, & with a certain earth which is brought from Tripoli in Africa. The properties which are attributed to coral, are marvelous: for some say, that being hanged about the neck, or taken in drink, it is good for them that have the falling evil, for bloody flixes and looseness of the belly, to fasten the teeth, to heal soreness in the mouth: to provoke sleep in such as have fevers, to diminish the spleen: for those that vomit and spit blood. Avicen placeth it amongst those medicines that comfort the heart, and Pliny saith that being burnt and pulverised, and so drunk with water, it is good for them that have wring in their belly, and the stone in the bladder. The ashes thereof also are put into medicines for the eyes: it thickneth, refrigerateth, and doth incarnate hollow ulcers, and maketh scars smooth. But amongst other properties this is most admirable and true, that red coral, which is pure and fulgent like the carbuncle, being tied about one's neck so that it touch the skin, when that person is sick, or shall be in short space after, or hath drunk any venom, which he yet feeleth not, the coral doth wax pale and lose the splendour thereof: which Cardanus hath often testified to have proved by experience.  
I will hereto add some short discourse concerning Crystal: 
Of crystal.  because that as it is engendered in the veins of the earth, of the same humour that the Diamond is, which opened the entrance of this discourse concerning precious stones; so now this speech of Crystal may shut it up again. Pliny and many others have supposed that it was made of ice or snow: in a word, that it was water congealed through great cold. But it appeareth that crystal is engendered of some very well purified humour, in that it is the clearest of all stones. Again, if the oldest ice in the world be put into an hot place, it doth presently melt, which crystal doth not. Moreover, it is most certain that it is not found on the tops of mountains, where there is continual snow and extreme coldness: but in quarries of marble and of other stones, yea and in mines of divers metals. This also is another reason, that ice doth always swim above water, but crystal sinketh to the bottom. That crystal is best, which is white and clear as water. It melteth with very great fire, and doth convert into glass, whereof there are very fair vessels made. In virtue it is restringent, and is therefore good for such as are sick of Dysenterias to drink, in good sharp wine, after it is well and subtly beaten to powder. The Ancients made a bowl of crystal, wherewith physicians cauterized those which feared the fire, and common fearing iron: to do which, they laid the same bowl directly toward the beams of the sun: by the reverberation whereof they did their surgery work upon the grieved part. Now in this little which we (companions) have declared concerning metals and precious stones, we may imagine, that if there be sufficient matter to admire the effects of nature, ordained by the divine providence, what might we think, if we should enterprise to speak of five hundred kinds of metals, earths, and precious stones, which the earth hideth within her bowels? But sith that we have attained to the end of our discourse, which is to glorify God in the knowledge and contemplation of his most noble creatures: let us advise ourselves how to give some good instructions upon that which hath been delivered concerning minerals and stones hidden under ground as (ARAM) you can declare unto us.   

Of the instructions that men must take, in that gold and silver are hidden under the ground, and of their use and abuse, as also of precious stones. Chapter 99  ARAM. 
AS God declareth a great and marvelous providence in all his creatures (as we have discoursed entreating upon them) so also doth he manifest it unto us in the creation of metals, & especially of gold & silver, which are esteemed for the most precious. For we see how he hath hidden them in the most deep places of the earth, & hath covered them with great and high mountains: so that to dig and draw them out of their profound caves, men must therein so travel, as if they had enterprised to overturn and to transport these lofty hills from one place to another, and to search and pierce through the earth from one side to another. For how is it searched by such as work in mines? It is a marvel that they are not already come unto the Antipodes, considering the deep pits, gulfs and holes whereinto they are descended. 
job. 28.  job having spoken of gold and silver, doth presently make mention of the bounds of darkness and shadow of death. And in very truth they are things which do fitly agree with these two minerals: For they are hidden in very obscure and dark places, and covered with a very thick shadow: yet cannot this limit the covetousness and avarice of men, notwithstanding that God hath sufficiently admonished them to moderate themselves, seeing that he hath so hidden the gold and silver, which provoketh their avarice, making them so furious and insatiable. And therefore I might very well compare them to bruit beasts, yea to a flock of sheep. For although that they daily behold by many experiences, 
Men compared to a flock of sheep.  the calamities which fall upon the world through avarice, and especially upon those, which are entangled with this vice, yet cannot one take example by another, but do all follow one by one like poor brute beasts and sheep, following one another when they are lead to that slaughter house, or when there is some one amongst them that hath lead the way to the rest, and hath made the first leap. For what danger soever there be, yea though it were to tumble headlong downwards, into some bottomless pit, it is sufficient if one begin the dance: for he shall presently have good company, yea such, as there is not one of the whole troop, but will lustily rush after without thinking upon any danger. Who doth not see that it is even so in man's life? For according as some have wickedly begun, others pursue them, and the latter cannot discover their own folly by that of the former, nor yet correct it by so many examples as they have of evil ends, and pernicious events, which have willingly fallen upon the covetous. For this cause the prophet having described the folly and presumption of men, which think to build an eternity unto themselves with temporal riches; he addeth [Their way uttereth their foolishness, 
Psal. 49.  yet their posterity delight in their talk: like sheep they lie in the grave: death devoureth them.] See there the shepherd and the flock of the covetous, death, and the sepulchre.  
Now our meaning is not here to blame the use of gold and silver: but only the abuse. 
Of the right use of gold, and silver.  For we behold the great commodities that men have by communicating one with another, and mutually aiding one another in all that which is rare and exquisite amongst them, and that by means of those metals and money that is coined thereof. For so may they furnish themselves of all things necessary for their use, for their life, and according to their wish, not only from one country to another, but (as we may well say) from one end of the world to another. And if by their avarice they abuse not this great commodity, it will be much more profitable to all. But their unsatiable covetousness of gain is cause that the amiable communication, and the good desire of one neighbour to profit another, which should be by means of gold and silver, is converted oftentimes into plain robbery. For their hearts are so set on fire with love of riches, that they propose no other determination unto themselves, save to heap up treasures by a deceitful means, which nevertheless they do never enjoy in peace and content, being no more able to settle their covetousness, and assuage their appetite, then to quench a great fire with laying dry wood upon it: but that it will always increase and inflame the more. And to speak truth, what is this gold and silver, but a little yellow and white earth? And if there be any difference, it is only, in that the substance is more hardened: and what do they differ therein from the basest hard stones? It is only in colour. Why then do men travail and take great care to heap up gold and silver, rather than to heap up dust, earth, and stones? But indeed this is much worse; for they heap up an unhappy treasure, when for earth and clay, they gain unto themselves the treasure of the curse of God. 
Abat. 2.  For it is written [Cursed be he that heapeth up that which is not his: how long will he lad himself with thick clay.] But what? This clay so yellow and white, firm and exquisite, doth dazzle their eyes more than any thing else: and yet for all that, it is but earth. And therefore it is but opinion that causeth one thing to be esteemed more than an other. For if men had given that value to other metals, which they have appointed to gold and silver, there would be almost no difference of the one from the other. I say moreover that if they had but equal regard to the utility and nature of things, according to the profit which they receive thereby, and the need which they have thereof, they should more esteem of iron, brass and copper, then of gold and silver: considering that by iron, the earth which nourisheth us is ploughed, and arts and occupations maintained, and that by it we defend ourselves from the fury of beasts and enemies: and of tin and copper we make the most principal utensils and tools in our houses to boil our victuals in, and for other infinite uses. In all these things than we acknowledge the folly and want of judgement in men, who govern themselves more by opinion then by reason.  
We may say as much concerning precious stones, 
Of the use, and abuse of precious stones.  which they have esteemed at a more high price then gold and silver. For how many crowns do they oftentimes give for one pearl, or for a diamond, or for some other stone? If the fancy take them, and that they do but only like some small precious stone, then do they spare gold, and silver no more then if they were dust and clay: then that which they so much delight in, and for to obtain which, they direct and govern their whole course of life; yea, and put it into all confusion, is nothing with them in respect of a small jewel. And what profit can redound unto them by all this? Nothing else, but a vain persuasion that induceth them to obtain a stone of such and such worth, as it pleaseth them to esteem it at. If they would think as much of a flint, a flint would no less content them. If it be for the beauty and colour that they so account of this merchandise: is there any thing fairer, clearer, or cleaner than glass? nay then crystal? likewise the marble, alabaster, jasper, and such like matters, do they give much place in beauty or hardness, to the most excellent precious stones? If for their virtues and properties in physic they are so much respected; why then they should buy nothing more dear, not esteem of any thing more than of herbs and plants? I speak not this to despise or condemn the use of precious stones, no more then of gold and silver. For God did not create them, but for the service of man, and that he might please himself with them, as with all his other creatures. 
Exod. 25.26.27.28.  For it was his will that his temple and the vessels therein, the garments of the high priest, and the service by him ordained in the church of Israel, should be adorned and enriched with gold, silver, and with precious stones. Again, David and Solomon, and the other kings of Israel were never reprehended nor condemned because they did abound in such riches. We do not then condemn the use, but the abuse. For God requireth that his creatures may be used according to his ordinance, and so moderated, that there be no excess, whereby he may be dishonoured & offended, or our neighbour endamaged. But it is an hard matter to heap up great store of gold and silver, and to dispend so much upon precious stones, and other the pomps of the world, but that great wrong must needs be done to many persons, or at least wise that the deeds of charity, for which we were borne, must needs wax very slack. Loethen that, which I have thought worthy to instruct ourselves in upon our discourse this day concerning the richesses hidden within the earth. And sith that we have in the twelve days of our meeting entreated of the principal parts of all this visible world, and of the creatures contained therein, let us now, to conclude our discourse, draw all these parts into one body, to the end that we may show in this mass of the universe, and propose as it were before our eyes, the image of the greatness, puissance, and majesty of God, by the which men may in contemplation, & consideration of his works, learn to fear, honour, and put their whole trust and confidence in him, as they ought: which (ACHITOB) let us hear you discourse upon.   

Of the doctrine and profit which every one must and may reap out of the total works of God in heaven and in earth, to acknowledge and glorify him. Chap. 100  ACHITOB. 
IF we do well consider upon those goodly matters, which we have heretofore entreated of touching the creation of the world, and adorning thereof in every part: we shall without doubtfeele ourselves as it were lifted up upon an high scaffold, where we may behold and contemplate God our creator in the excellent works of his hands, and in the marvelous effects of his providence, in such sort as if all this visible vniuers were a shop, wherein we do see him work before our eyes; or else as if he were seated in a stately royal palace, wherein we behold him reign upon his celestial throne over every living soul: or as in a goodly temple wherein the glory of his Majesty shineth on every side, yea in every creature, which is therein as an image, or mirror to show and manifest the creator and moderator of all things. And indeed without this contemplation and knowledge for which we are borne, and endued with reason, let us not think but that brute beasts have more whereof to brag in regard of the world, and of the beauty and commodity thereof, and that they receive more rest, pleasure, and profit thereby then men. For they content themselves with that which they have, and care not for that, which they cannot attain unto: enjoying all that which is needful for them, and that with pleasure, and without excess, superfluity, or any hurt. But men are to the contrary, never content with their condition, aspire evermore to that which they enjoy not, and which they might well let pass: have many times need of that, which is necessary for them; and receive no pleasure, but that which is mixed with some grief and bitterness: neither yet can they content themselves, but that they must run into excess to their great detriment.  
This is that which hath inflamed us with desire, in the progress of our work, to discourse upon heaven and earth. And having brought our intention to a desired end: we will here represent (for the last point of our speech, as we did in the beginning thereof) all the parts of the world in one body, to declare in this great body of all the universe, and to propose, as it were before our eyes the image of the greatness of the power, and of the majesty of God, and of his infiniteness: to the end that we may all learn by the contemplation, and consideration of this image, to honour him, and to put all our trust and confidence in him, as we ought to do. For this is the true doctrine, and the great profit, that every one must, and may reap by the grace of God, of this total work in heaven, and in earth, to the end to acknowledge and to glorify him. First then we are to consider, that not only all that which we have declared concerning the works of God in this great vniuers, but also all that, which the most learned ever could heretofore, or hereafter ever may comprehend & describe, is nothing else but as a very light demonstration of some draft of his work, or of some corner of his magnificent palace, or of some small jewel of his inestimable treasures. For sith he hath created all these things, and that the heaven is his seat, and the earth his footstool (as Isay speaketh) what may then be the full perfection, height, and greatness of himself? 
Isay. 66.  It is (as job saith) in the highness of the heaven; it is deeper than hell: 
job. 11.  the measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea. It is he (saith Isay again) who hath measured the waters with his hand, and hath compassed the heavens with his palm, and hath comprehended the dust of the earth with three fingers, and hath poised the hanging of the mountains. Thereby than we must learn that God is infinite, and incomprehensible, and so high, and so great that all this visible world is nothing in comparison to him, and that he doth contain, and confine, and surpass it in every side, both above, and below, before and behind on the right hand, and on the left. And that because we cannot comprehend, nor understand what he is, the image of him was set before our eyes, in the heavens, and in the earth, and as in a glass to represent unto our understandings him, whom we neither behold, nor know except so far, as it pleaseth him to represent himself unto us in his works.  
Lastly we must learn, that from the very first hour of our entrance into this world, we have been placed therein, as in the temple of God to adore, and praise him therein. And in very truth, whosoever shall consider of, and know God, as he hath manifested himself in the creation of the world, shall not he have good, and just occasion to fear, and stand in awe of him? For as we read in the book of job [If God cut off, and shut up or gather together, 
job. 12. &. 12.  who can turn him?] And strait after [In his hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind.] On the other side, shall not we be induced to have recourse unto him, and to put our trust in him, as in the Almighty, who can save and defend those, whom he will take into his custody, and whom he will accept for his people, and for his servants and children? Who so dwelleth in the secret of the most high (saith the prophet) shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say unto the Lord, 
Psal. 91.  Oh mine hope and my fortress: in my God will I trust: who will deliver us out of all trouble. And to conclude, we shall have goodly matter, whereby to give him glory, and laud all the days of our life, by serving him according to his holy will. We shall be I say, very blind and senseless, if we do not humble ourselves under the greatness of the puissance of God: if we have recourse unto, or put our confidence in any other, but in him alone: and if we do not acknowledge his great providence, wisdom and bounty, which he hath used ever since the beginning towards us, and the regard and care which he hath daily had of us, and how that he entreateth us so benignly, so tenderly, and with such fatherly affection, to the end that we may render thanks unto him. For as we have seen, before that he created man, he would prepare his lodging for him: the which he did adorn with all beauty, and with all riches, and did afterwards place him in this world, as in a most delectable palace, & made him Lord & master over all his creatures, of whom he hath provided him such abundance, & in such variety, that it is impossible to comprehend these, or to desire more. As it were then ravished in the consideration of so great bounty and liberality of God, let us cry out with the prophet, [Oh Lord our God, 
Psal. 8.  how excellent is thy name in all the world! What is man that thou art mindful of him, and the sun of man, that thou showest him so much grace as to visit him, and to take care of him!] And so giving glory unto his name, for so many benefits, and particularly for that it hath pleased him to grant us this grace, as to reduce to a desired end our Academical discourses, concerning his works, in the universe, let us pronounce this goodly Canticle of the Angels. Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Hosts, all the earth is full of thy glory.    
The end if the twelfth days work, and of all the third tome of the French Academy.